


Overdue Heart

by owlaholic68



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Anxiety, Canon Compliant, F/F, Fluff, Libraries, Mild Language, Post-Canon, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-05-16 07:14:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 29,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14806775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlaholic68/pseuds/owlaholic68
Summary: In the aftermath of her quest, the Sole Survivor finds something unexpected: a new purpose.The Commonwealth is going to have a library. And she's going to be the one to build it.





	1. Nick Valentine

“That’s not a good route, General.” Preston traces a line that arcs further north than Julia had originally suggested. “That area’s swarming with mutants. It’d better to cut through Goodneighbor, go along the riverwalk.” 

Julia sighs.  _ Everywhere  _ is teeming with mutants these days, though maybe that’s just her. She’s not really used to running into danger around every corner. Still, she’d been eager to check out what remained of downtown Boston. She remembers some breathtaking architecture and monuments. Maybe some of it is still intact. “How about I do a recon mission, see if there’s some way through.” 

“If you insist. I should stay here, though, to supervise the refugees from the fight with the Institute. I’ll keep an eye on little Shaun too.” Preston looks around the crumbling walls of the quickly filling Castle. He looks tired but hopeful, dust sticking in the frown lines of his face and making him look years older. “Good luck. Bring your new set of power armor, you’re going to need it. And don’t forget to radio if you need support.” 

“Will do.”

* * *

Julia had wanted to be a librarian when she grew up. Briefly, before that dream got taken up by other, more “practical” aspirations. In the collapsing Pre-War economy, you either joined up with the Army, or you toiled in dangerous conditions for almost no pay back at home to make parts for the Army. Either way, it was bleak. Cushy jobs, “useless” jobs, were unavailable. Being a librarian was unthinkable. There was talk starting of shutting down libraries, to save money and labor. Who needed them, anyways?

The Boston Public Library had not been needed after the War, apparently. Only the Supermutants craved this piece of impressive real estate. She peeks through the scope of her rifle. There are three super mutants in the windows, but there are doubtless more inside. 

“Let’s move in,” she whispers. She’s glad that this is her stealth suit. An integrated Stealth Boy activates when she crouches. 

Nick Valentine, curious about the library too, had agreed to accompany her. He’s crouched behind her, serving as her spotter and keeping an eye out for danger. He unholsters his pistol. “Ready when you are.” He’s not wearing Power Armor, but his coat has been outfitted with Ballistic Weave. 

They’ve already scouted out the best entrance on the Western side of the building. An intercom momentarily stops them, but Julia makes up the most basic password ever, “12345”, and it somehow lets them in. After that, their usual routine follows. 

Scout for enemies. There are several super mutants on the first floor, and more in the courtyard. A few turrets and Protectrons, but not hostile. Julia snipes and Valentine watches her back and picks off any enemies that get too close. It’s efficient, quiet, deadly. 

In the aftermath, Julia stands with heavy armored boots on the once-gorgeous tiled floor of the main hall, and looks up at the curved ceiling. Her idea is impractical, a waste of time, people would say. Why spend energy and caps on something that nobody needs anymore? People have lasted the last two hundred years without a library. 

But maybe they need it now. People need to learn, they need to move on. Plenty of books seem to have survived in this building, albeit in varyingly fragile conditions. Medical guides, technical manuals, even fiction and poetry have a place in this wrecked shell of a world. 

“I really think we can do this.” Julia takes a deep breath and sets aside her gun. She steps out of her armor and turns to Valentine. Dust motes hang in the air, stirred by her breath. 

Screw what everyone will say about how this is a waste of time. It’s not a waste to her. “Let’s get started.”

* * *

This is not unlike building a settlement. First: planning, investigating what parts of the building are usable, and which sections will need some renovation. With Valentine’s help, she drags the turrets near the entrances so they don’t have to worry about unwanted visitors while they work. The Protectrons plod around, whirring to themselves and wishing her a lovely day of reading. 

Walking through the abandoned library is peaceful. Mid-morning August sun streams through the cracks in the boarded-up windows. The floor is littered with rubble and scraps of paper. She pokes through crooked bookshelves, idly browsing the books that remain. 

After two days of planning, they have a rough blueprint of the structure. The main entrance and hall will be for books and book-related activities. It’s the sturdiest, and the roof seems almost completely intact. The courtyard has enough natural light to support plant life. Julia had decided that this should be a self-sufficient building. They hadn’t taken an in-depth look at the water system yet, but it could be salvageable too. The large archival room just off the main hall needed a new roof before it could be used for anything important, but the two reading rooms and the storage room down the hall would serve as living quarters, book repair and creation facilities, and whatever else they needed the space for. The southern wing was mostly collapsed, and wouldn’t do them much good in its current state. 

Planning was the easy part. Now comes the most tedious part: scavenging. Julia hadn’t brought much with her, so basic tools would have to do until she got her better equipment from the Castle. She had already radioed for volunteers and the extra supplies, but it could take up to a week to mobilize everyone, Preston had said. 

Here’s what she has: A hammer. Four screwdrivers: two Phillips head, two flathead, big and small. A crowbar and a shovel. A pair of sturdy work gloves. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do for now. 

“I’ll start on sorting books,” Valentine offers. After some digging in the library backrooms, he’s found some rolling carts used for reshelving material. “Good condition, needs some repair, and recyclable, right?” 

“Yeah,” she buckles on a tool belt. It has loops for her tools and small pockets to store screws and nails. In this world, it pays to reuse and recycle. Even a broken nail could still be useful. “Try to start sorting by genre if you can. It’ll save us some work later.” 

“Can do.” Valentine heads into the shelves with a jaunty wave. She admires his lopsided enthusiasm and his comfortable companionship. He understands how it feels to stand in a ruin and see the echoes of the past wonder that it had been. He’s felt the uneasy listlessness of finding your one driving task complete, and peering forward into a foggy future, trying to find some purpose, some other marker to follow. 

Right now, construction is her goal. Technically, it’s destruction at this point, but it has the same rhythmic routine. She starts at the main room. This is going to be their command center, so it needs to be clean, a smooth safe haven to return to when the clutter overwhelms her. There is a small pile of books on a desk, but otherwise it’s clean. This could serve as their front desk until they get something better. 

This is not her first settlement, far from it, and she’s long since developed a system of organization. A rolling cart trailing behind her holds bins and boxes with rough labels scribbled on them: wood, metal, concrete, electronics, books, and materials. Materials was a catch-all box for anything else: plastic, cloth, ceramic. 

A hammer makes quick work of removing nails, as long as Julia watches her fingers. Screwdrivers take care of most everything else. She dumps the broken terminals into the electronics bin to be taken apart later. After a once-over with a mostly-clean rag, the “new” front desk is starting to look cleanish. Leaning against the wall in the corner is a broom with most of its bristles intact. Julia sweeps under the desk and around it, pushing the layers of dirt into a pile in the hallway. 

“Pretty good,” Julia says aloud, to herself, in the middle of an empty library. She shakes her head and returns to work.

The main hall is a mess. The super mutant corpses had already been cleared out, but lumpy piles of sandbags and shattered bookshelves are scattered on every foot of the floor. This room takes the rest of the day, but by the end of it, Julia has an impressive pile of scrap wood, nearly-full bins, and some furniture. Two sturdy tables and four usable chairs. Two low bookshelves. The rest of the furniture was too unusable, and had been taken apart for scrap. She could make more furniture as needed. What’s more, most of what she had seen of the furnishings of the side rooms had looked in much better condition than these. 

This might work after all. Julia nibbles on some rations, sitting across from Valentine at one of the tables. The sun is setting, and they haven’t hooked up some electricity yet. That would require getting the materials for solar panels from the Castle, and that’s going to be heavy for the volunteers to carry over, and they don’t want to rely on firelight with all of these books around, and is it really going to be worth it to use so many resources on something so useless- 

Julia takes a deep breath and derails that train of thought. There’s no use in feeding her anxiety. This is going to work, and it’s going to be worth it. 

* * *

“Ow!” Julia winces and inspects her bleeding finger. 

“You alright?” Valentine drawls, putting down his own work to glance over at her. 

“Yeah.” She wraps her finger in a rough bandage, careful not to get blood on the book in front of her on the table. In the later hour, they’ve stopped their respective work and had started taking apart unusable books. Most of the pages of these volumes were destroyed or unreadable because of damage. They were separating the cover from the pages, and sorting mostly intact covers from the ones that were to be recycled. “My knife slipped. Just surprised me a little.” 

His yellow eyes narrow, then relax as he decides that she is not in any real danger. “We can take a break if you’re getting tired. Taking apart books can really wait for later.” In the eerie light of her Pip-Boy and the low moon through the window, his craggy frown looks even more severe. “It’s getting late, Julia.” 

She fetches the first aid kit from her pack and sits heavily, taking care to properly treat the small wound. “Yeah, probably. I know I’ve probably been overworking myself.” She sighs. “I just want this to go right.” 

“And it will. You took down the Institute, Julia. You can set up a library, easy.” His skeletal hand sets aside a stack of paper. “What is it about this that is bothering you?” 

“It’s just that I’m not sure anyone is going to actually care.” She finishes bandaging her finger. “This is a violent world, Nick. Who’s interested in reading books anymore? Who’s going to trek out here just to look at some long-forgotten thing? Nobody even has a reference point for what a library even is.” 

He barks out a laugh that makes her jump. It echoes off the high ceiling. “Oh, there’s a whole hell of a lot of people that are going to care. Let’s start with me. Do you know how many times I’ve reread  _ Murder on the Orient Express?  _ Fifty-five times in the last hundred years. I’d willingly die for another book to read, even another Agatha Christie novel. I own two books, Julia. And if books were wealth, I’d be a millionaire in the wasteland.” He stands and walks to her. He lays his flesh hand on her arm. “And I know that every other person in this broken world feels the same way. This matters more than you could ever imagine.  _ Knowledge is power,  _ and we need a little more knowledge around here.” 

The moment hangs in the air like flecks of golden dust. “Thanks,” Julia says. “Really. Sometimes I...doubt myself.” She yawns. “You’re right. How about we go to bed?”

“How about  _ you  _ go to bed? Jokes on you, synths don’t need to sleep!” Valentine says this like it’s some well-crafted joke. It makes her chuckle, half-hysterical from exhaustion. It’s been a long day of more destruction, slowly working her way towards the large archival room. 

“Good night, Nick.”

“Good night.”


	2. Preston

“I think I’ve got an idea you might like.” Julia bounces her leg, all of her concentration centered on the coverless book in front of her.

“Okay, what is it?” Preston asks. He, along with two Minutemen volunteers, had joined her from the Castle two days ago. The two of them are in one of the smaller reading rooms dedicated to book organization and repair. 

Of all of the books that they’d recovered so far, about forty percent were totally unreadable. Those completely destroyed books were going to be recycled for paper, cardboard, and fabric. Out of the usable books that remained, only twenty-five percent were in good enough condition to be immediately used. The remaining thirty-five percent were readable, but in poor condition. Most of them needed new covers, the old ones hanging on by a thread, at best. 

“My idea is that we need more books. And not just Pre-War ones. Those are fine, but some of them aren’t practical anymore. We need new books, Preston.” Julia ties off the thread holding the pages in front of her together, then picks up her scissors to cut some fabric for the cover. “I want you to write a book about the Minutemen.”

He startles. “Really? Me? About the Minutemen?” 

“Yeah, who else would do it? Ronnie can contribute what she knows, but I feel like you should be the one to write it.” The work is monotonous and simple enough that Julia can keep one eye on Preston. “These things are important to people. I think it would be really neat to read the whole history of the Minutemen.” 

Preston sets aside his scissors and frowns. “Yeah, if ninety percent of that book was about how badly they failed-”

“Hey.” Julia flicks some glue at him. “Don’t you mean if ninety percent of it was about how they really made a difference, saved pretty much everyone in the wasteland, and defeated the Institute?” 

He shrugs, but a smile creeps onto his face. “Fine. It does sound like a good idea. I’ll try, but don’t expect a masterpiece.” 

“Great, that’s all I ask.” Julia finishes the book she’s working on and sets it out for the glue to dry. The cover is a little crooked and she’s not sure how well the spine will hold up, but it’ll do for now. She’s still a little rusty at bookbinding, but she’s getting exponentially better. “Can you handle this for an hour or so? I want to go check and see how the rest of the library is doing.” 

“Go ahead, General.” Preston’s hands are steadier than hers, and he’s just a little faster than her at the job. “I’ll be right here if you need me.” 

* * *

Progress is being made, slowly. Julia walks the library, her mind whirring like the Protectrons that cheerily greet her. 

“Good mornin’, Ma’am,” a Minuteman woman greets her, her voice obstructed by the nails she’s holding between her lips. She takes one and sets it against the joint of the bookcase she’s working on. With two decisive strikes of her hammer, it’s embedded halfway in the wood. 

“Good morning, Carol. Don’t forget to watch your fingers.” Julia admires the sturdy joints in the bookcase that’s sitting finished next to her. Carol was one of the best woodworkers within the ranks of the Minutemen. 

“Yes,  _ Mom,”  _ she quips. 

Julia chuckles and moves on. In the courtyard, neat lines of mutfruit bushes and tato plants that had been transplanted from the Castle. A turret at the top of the stairs surveys the scene. If nothing else, if her whole library plan fails, at least this will be a secure settlement, especially for those passing from Diamond City to Goodneighbor or to the Castle. 

From a storage room down the hall, Valentine waves to her, his hat askew and sprinkled with dust. “You’ll never believe the collections that are stored here, Julia. There’s sheet music and historical documents that date back to the 1800’s, copies of the Boston Bugle back to its creation. We’ll have to set up something with the display cases from the archive room.” 

“Hey, that’s really cool!” Julia peeks in. Another Minutemen volunteer looks up from sorting books and smiles. “I never knew they had all of this stuff. Do you think there’s more on the second floor? It’ll be hell to find a way up there, but it’s probably been untouched for decades.” 

The main staircase in the southern corner leading down to the basement and the second floor were both blocked off by heavy rubble. The whole area was dangerously unstable. They couldn’t risk trying to move the rubble, so their only option was to find a way through the floor in another section, or trying to get up to the windows from the courtyard. Julia still isn’t sure that it would be worth it, but if there’s more material up there or hidden in the basement, it might be something to seriously consider. 

“We can think about that later.” Valentine looks the most optimistic she’s ever seen. “We’ve got a good amount of stuff already. The only problem is that most of what we’ve been pulling out in the last few hours is great, content-wise, but in terrible condition.” He sobers. “It seems we’ve hit the last of our nicely preserved books. In addition, I don’t know how we’re going to be able to loan things out when we have no way of replacing them if they’re lost or destroyed.”

More problems, more obstacles to making this work. Julia takes off the kerchief covering her hair and shakes it out, then ties it back on, thinking hard. “We can copy books that are in high demand, and just not let anyone check things out until we have another copy. We could charge if someone wants to keep a book, maybe ten caps for materials and another fifty for the process of copying? We can think about that later. For now, maybe no checking out.” 

He nods. “That sounds like a start. We can talk about it at dinner, maybe Preston has ideas regarding that front.” 

Julia finishes her circuit of the library. She pauses in the courtyard, craning her neck to peer up at the second-story windows. If they found a ladder and were able to climb up there…

She’ll think about that later. There’s enough work to do as it is.

* * *

“Thanks for this. We said fifty caps each, so that’s four-fifty total.” Julia nods to Preston, who runs back inside for the money. “And start letting people know that we’re open. Loaning services are still being set up, but reading is free. Book rebinding and repair is twenty caps, half-price if they can provide us with material.” Preston comes back with the caps and gives the jangling pouch to the caravan leader, trading the money for a complete set of the  _ Wasteland Survival Guide,  _ delivered straight from the Capital Wasteland.  __

“Always pleasure doin’ business with you, General. We’ll keep an eye out for more books like you asked.” He shakes her hand, then turns to Preston. “And we got a lead on the electronics parts you wanted for those turrets, Sir. They should be at the Castle in a week or so.” 

Preston blushes like he does when anyone calls him “Sir”, which is often. He’s well-known as the strategist and second-in-command of the Minutemen. Only Julia and a few select members know that he’s the main driving force who makes most of the decisions, but trusts Julia to be the public face of the group. 

“Uh, thank you.” He nervously takes off his hat, then puts it back on. “Please let folks know this is a safe space to stay too, free if they help out. Fresh food, clean water, medical assistance. It’s a rough road through this part of the city.”

“Sure thing. I’ll let the other caravans know too.” The caravan leader nods again to both of them, then turns and barks an order to his guards. The group heads North towards Bunker Hill and Goodneighbor with one last wave at the library. 

“Wow.” Julia turns and looks up at the building. They’ve formed a relatively secure perimeter around the building with turrets and guard posts, fences and gates obstructing unwanted access. There are painted arrows and signs letting visitors know where to enter. “We’ve really done it, haven’t we? We have a  _ library  _ again, Preston. A real library.” The Commonwealth Public Library, they’d decided to name it.

He turns and looks too. “It’s impressive what we’ve been able to do in such a short time, and with almost no resources. We still have a ways to go, but it makes me...hopeful for what we can do in the future.” He shuffles through the copies of the  _ Wasteland Survival Guide  _ in his hands. “Speaking of doing more, there’s a problem up at Nordhagen Beach that we just got a call about. You seem like you’re on your feet here, but this still requires your direct supervision, I think...” 

“You can go.” Julia has become good at guessing what he’s trying to say. “It’s not too far. Oh, could you stop at the Castle on the way back and have Shaun come meet me here? I think we’ve cleared out the road so it’s safe enough.” 

“Sure. Hey, isn’t there a bookstore marked on your map, just north of Goodneighbor? I can check that out on the way. The whole thing won’t take more than a week.”

It’s unspeakably rewarding to see him so confident, so in sync with her. Preston has always been good at making plans, but not always with articulating them with such calmness and self-assurance. She grins. “I’ll see you in a week, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, the real-life Boston Public Library that the in-game one is based on has a huge collection of sheet music and America's (and the world's?) first children's room. Also, it's kind of disappointing in-game that only 1/3 of the library is accessible, and also that there aren't really any salvageable intact book objects. You have burned and ruined books, then overdue books, but no just normal good books, which actually makes the in-game library really empty, since there are bookshelves but not really any books?


	3. Shaun

“State your business.” 

Julia raises an eyebrow at the hostile tone. “Whoa, you know me. I’ve been to Diamond City before. I have a house here. Julia, General of the Minutemen.” 

The guard squints at her behind the bars of his catcher’s helmet. “And who’s the kid? What’s your business here?” 

“This is my son, Shaun.” Julia puts an arm protectively on his shoulders. Shaun stays silent, looking up at her with dark eyes. “I’m here to offer my bookbinding services to the Schoolhouse and other inhabitants, and to see Detective Valentine about some cases.” The last one was kind of a lie, but she had long since learned not to mention her true intentions. She was really here to speak with Piper about papermaking, but guards tended to bristle at the mention of the reporter. Besides, she would never get caught in a lie. She  _ would  _ be paying Nick a visit, though purely a social call. 

“Hm. Alright, you can pass.” He doesn’t sound particularly happy about it. 

Like the guard, Diamond City seems more tightly wound than usual. People hurry through the streets when they would have lingered before. In front of  _ Publick Occurrences,  _ Nat is sitting on her box instead of standing on top, but she still perks up when she sees them. 

“Julia! And um…”

“My name is Shaun.” He’s quiet but getting steadily louder the more he interacts with other people. “It is nice to meet you.” 

“Nice to meet you too!” She chirps. “I’m Nat. Do you want me to tell Piper you’re here, Julia?”

The way she says it, sly and knowing, makes Julia blush. “Uh, yeah. I’ve got work to take care of at the Schoolhouse, but I should be done by dinner, if she wants to...meet me...for dinner.” 

Nat rolls her eyes and mutters, “great, you’re just as bad as her.” Then, at a normal volume, “fine, I’ll pass the message on. I’ll tell her to meet you at Home Plate at sundown.” 

As they walk away, Shaun gives her a  _ look.  _ “Do you like  _ like  _ Miss Piper?”

“Is it that obvious?” She rubs the back of her neck. The last person she wants to be emotionally insecure in front of is her new son. Maybe this is the final push she needs to directly ask Piper out. “I’m going to ask her to be my girlfriend, is that okay with you? I know you haven’t met her, but she’s really nice.” 

“Yes, that is fine with me.” He looks around, obviously distracted by the bustling market. “May I play with Nat tonight while you two have dinner?” 

Oh, smart kid. Their dinner was not originally supposed to be a date, but it certainly is going to be now. “Of course. I’ll whip up some dinner for you two. You can go over to Nick’s place too if you want, I’ll show you the way.” 

They stop off at Home Plate to unload some supplies before heading up to the Schoolhouse. Shaun gets more and more nervous as they walk, anxious tics manifesting in the form of him tugging on the hem of his shirt and sticking closer to her side than normal. 

“You only have to stay for as long as you want, remember?” She reminds him just outside the door. “If you don’t want to participate in class anymore, you can come help me with the books. Mister Zwicky knows that it’s your first class.” 

After receiving a letter from the Schoolhouse about a desperate need for new and repaired books, Julia had replied that she’ll do the job, and she’ll give them a hefty discount too, as long as they let Shaun sit in on some classes. 

This is his first big interaction with other children outside of the Institute. Julia would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little nervous too. But despite her worries, all goes well. Zwicky and Miss Edna warmly welcome them, and there are only two other children at school today. Julia gets through ten books and sets them all out to dry. Even though she’d had to bring her own materials, she gave the school a discount and only charged ten caps per book, one hundred caps total. In addition, she’d agreed to loan them three children’s books from the library. 

The first loan. She had a ledger with the word “Schoolhouse” written under “Name”, then the names of the books, then the due date. Two week loan periods. By then, the children would become bored with these books, and they could be returned and exchanged for others. The library had a children’s room somewhere, she remembers, but she thinks it might have been in the currently inaccessible basement. For now, the books they’ve found so far will have to suffice.

Loaning was hard. It was a leap of faith in a world where these displays of trust were rare and often taken advantage of. But the Schoolhouse is not some nameless drifter. It is a well-established institution. Julia knew where to find them if they were late on their return, or if something happened. Still, it feels like taking the first step onto a teetering bridge that could fall at any moment. 

That doesn’t mean she doesn’t take that step anyways. 

* * *

Of all the moments Julia decides to confess her feelings to Piper, it has to be this one. She’s elbow-deep in pulp of recycled paper and grass in the backroom of  _ Publick Occurrences _ . She carefully lifts a frame with a fine wire mesh, tilting it so the pulp lays evenly across it. 

“There, now shake it just a little,” Piper instructs from over her shoulder, one hand on Julia’s elbow to guide her. “Good. Now, the towel. Be gentle about it, the paper hasn’t quite set yet.” 

Julia has to remind herself to breathe, taking a rag and carefully blotting the developing paper. Piper’s dark hair tickles her neck. Julia shivers but completes her task, hands fumbling and clumsy under Piper’s keen supervision. She lays the completed piece of paper on the drying rack with the others. This one is brighter and thinner than the others, a definite improvement. 

“Nice work!” 

“Thanks, it was really all due to your expertise.” Julia blushes and wipes her hands on a clean rag. They’ve run out of pulp, but Julia knows how to make more now. “You’re really good at this, Piper.” 

They’re still standing inches from each other. Julia avoids looking Piper in the eyes out of habit, but she sneaks peeks when she feels comfortable. 

“Thank you, it took a lot of trial and error to learn. But I’m always glad to help out a friend.” 

_ Is that what we are, friends? Have you ever thought of being more than friends?  _ These words, these simple phrases, are clamoring at Julia’s throat, digging their claws in and trying to climb out. Well, she’s going to take the coward’s route. She swallows down those dangerous words and forces a smile instead. Apparently, this is not to be the moment of confession.

“Do you mind if I stop by the library next week?” Piper asks, the ghost of a frown on her face. Julia startles out of her thoughts. “I’m looking for something interesting to read.” 

“Yeah!” Is her smile too bright? Should she look vaguely disappointed like Piper does right now? “Yeah, just stop by anytime, you can stay the night if it’s going to be too long of a trip-” idiot, Diamond City is less than twenty minutes from the library- “and I’ll take a look in the shelves and see if we have something you might like!” 

The entire short walk back to Home Plate, she mentally berates herself. She had an opportunity last night at dinner, but she had avoided the topic in favor of lighter subjects. And then, faced with a good opening, she had failed to deliver again. 

* * *

Their depart from Diamond City the next morning is quiet. Shaun yawns as they pass through the empty market, the early morning sun glinting off Takahashi’s once-shiny body. After learning to make paper yesterday, Julia had spent the rest of the day repairing citizen’s books and answering questions about the new library. 

“Come on, let’s get going before all of the supermutants wake up.” She’s leaving Diamond City three hundred caps richer, though some of it was spent on ordering shipments of cloth and steel from Diamond City Supply. The steel will be used to shore up parts of the library ceiling, and the cloth was for bookbinding and general use. 

The walk to the library, to  _ her  _ library, is short and safe. Raiders have long since learned to stay away from the path after a particularly bloody incident involving Julia, a suit of power armor, and a baseball bat. There’s the occasional mole rat, but nothing bigger. 

A sign on their way points them in the direction of the library. Then they pass another, then another. Finally, they enter the square and wave to the guards as they pass through the gate. In the safety of the enclosed area, Shaun darts ahead, presumably to share stories of the tarnished green jewel of the Commonwealth with whoever will listen. 

Julia props her hands up on her hips. There’s no time to waste admiring what she’s accomplished so far: there’s still so much work to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will see some NPC visitors to the library! Is there anyone you'd like to see?


	4. Visitors

“You know, I heard the news, but I didn’t really believe it.” Daisy puts her hands on her hips and looks up at the curved ceiling. “This is impressive, it is really is. A library, in this day and age? It brings me back to when I was a kid.” 

_ This  _ is why Julia does what she does. This is why all of the struggle and labor is worth it. It’s to see the faces of people who are genuinely touched by her efforts, who find joy in this, no matter how small the scrap of happiness. Any reprieve from the harsh world is welcome. 

“Do you want to check something out?” She asks. “We just started loaning books out to people with permanent addresses and guarantees of reliability, and you’d be eligible.” 

“Hell yeah!” She says with an unexpected energy for such an old ghoul. “And listen, I’ve got two books to donate to the library. I’ve read them about a thousand times, I don’t need them anymore.”

_ Frankenstein  _ by Mary Shelley and  _ Orlando  _ by Virginia Woolf. The covers are well-worn but intact, the pages slightly battered at the ends, but otherwise clean and readable. 

“I’ve always wanted to read  _ Orlando,”  _ Julia comments. “I’ve read  _ Mrs. Dalloway,  _ but not this one.” 

“Oh, you’ll love it.” Daisy gives her a wry grin. “It’s become a little too autobiographical for me, I’m afraid. What with the whole living for centuries and transitioning to a woman halfway through, it hits a little too close on the ol’ nose.” She chuckles. “That is, if I still had one left.” 

* * *

“Mom?”

There’s a note of fear in Shaun’s voice. It makes Julia turn and set down the book she’s working on. “What’s wrong?” 

He closes the door behind him. “There are some scary men here. Mister Preston said they wanted to talk to you about something.” 

Scary men? “Thank you, Shaun. You can stay here if you want, or go up to our room.” As she walks towards the front hall, Julia straightens the collar of her pale floral dress and mentally prepares herself. Who could be visiting that Shaun wouldn’t know? 

“It’s library policy,” she hears Preston say from down the hall as she enters the front room. “No weapons allowed in the reading area, no power armor either. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to wait in the lobby if that doesn’t suit you.” 

A hulking figure in Brotherhood power armor catches Julia’s eye first. A shorter knight with an impressively-sized laser rifle stands at their side. What was the Brotherhood doing here? At least this explains why Shaun would call them “scary”. 

“And I’m telling you that your  _ rules  _ are preposterous!” A very familiar voice argues. From here, Julia can see the tense set of Preston’s shoulders as he starts to lose patience faced with such an aggressive personality. 

“Ah, Proctor Quinlan.” Julia moves to Preston’s side and gives her second-in-command a nod. He gives her a grateful smile and steps back. “And Knight-Captain Cade too. What brings you gentlemen here with your...armed escort?” 

Quinlan taps his foot, his eyes unfriendly behind his thick glasses. “We were curious,  _ Julia.”  _

She grins. So news of her recent resignation from the Brotherhood has reached the officers. “Well, allow me to sate your curiosity. Let me give you a tour first, then we can sit and talk. The weather’s nice, we can sit out in the courtyard. Oh, and leave your weapons here, come on.” She chuckles. “It’s a library. Were you raised on an airship, or what?”

Cade, who hasn’t spoken yet, bristles, but hands over his weapons. Quinlan reluctantly follows suit, and nods at the the knight and the paladin to remain in the lobby. Julia shows them the main hall and the smaller reading rooms, the only dialogue comments about the architecture or the collection. Finally, she can stall no longer, and she leads the group to sit in the courtyard on a pair of benches. 

An awkward moment of silence. 

“How’s Emmett doing?” If Julia was to be honest, the only reason she ever bothered stopping by Quinlan’s office was to hang out with his pet cat. 

“He’s doing fine.” Quinlan crosses his arms. 

“So, a library, huh?” Cade is the next to speak. “You gave up being a Paladin in the Brotherhood for a run-down library?” 

She scoffs. There’s no need to maintain the careful politeness towards them. “Really? I  _ did  _ write in my letter to Maxson that it was only a matter of time anyways. I’m the General of the Minutemen, in case you haven’t heard. Would Maxson give up his position as Elder to be a soldier in someone else’s army?” She crosses her legs and straightens her back. “The Brotherhood was never going to take priority.”

Quinlan stares at her, frowning. “I see. Personally, considering your merit and potential as a Brotherhood soldier, I had hoped to sway your mind, or at least see you headed down a path of eventual futility.” He sighs and looks around the verdant courtyard. Mutfruit hangs heavy on the neat lines of bushes. “But I must admit that your operation has managed to do what even the Brotherhood would be unable to accomplish, and with scant resources. For that, Julia, you have my respect and my grudging admiration.” 

“I still don’t see the value in a building like this,” Cade admits. “But I see your passion for it. It’s a fire that, unfortunately, I don’t see rarely these days, even in the most devout of squires.” He pulls a scrap of paper from his pocket. “Speaking of squires, many of the personnel aboard the Prydwen heard of our planned visit here, and requested a frankly exhausting list of books.” 

She smiles. Back to neutral territory. “The Prydwen is scheduled to depart in two months, correct? Loan period is two weeks, late fee is five caps per day. And if you need anything repaired, that’ll cost you twenty caps per book.” Unlike the Schoolhouse, the Brotherhood will not be receiving any special discounts from her. “Happy reading, gentlemen.”

* * *

“A caravan for you, General.” One of the Minutemen volunteers pokes his head in. “It’s a ghoul, and she has...tarberries?” 

“Oh, the-from the Slog-hold on-” Julia is half-undressed in the dusty heat of the storage room, her coveralls pooled around her waist, leaving her in just a sports bra on top. She hurries to make herself look presentable, retying the kerchief over her hair. “Tell them I’ll be just a minute.”

The ghoul making the delivery she had requested is Holly, who is wearing the lightest and thinnest dress Julia’s ever seen, a large sunhat shielding her face. “Hey there, hun. What’d you need all these berries for, anyways?” 

“Ink. We need to make a significant quantity of ink. Don’t tell anyone yet, but Preston is writing a book about the Minutemen, and we’re starting to run low on ink for copying our books.” She waves over a few Minutemen to start unloading the Brahmin. “Please, come inside. It’s a long way from the Slog to here. You could have just given it to the next supply caravan, you know. It wasn’t that urgent.” 

“Yeah, but I wanted to see the library for myself. Heard you were starting to let fine folks check out books.” She gives Julia a wide grin. “Would we count as ‘fine’ folk?” 

Julia rolls her eyes, but chuckles anyway. “Yeah, we could arrange something.” 

“Cool. You got any porn?” 

The front step of the library is uneven. Julia trips because of that, and definitely not because of what Holly just asked her. “What? I mean, yes, but not a lot.” She sighs. “Yes, we do. It’s in the back until we get a separate children’s area.”

“Nice!” Holly has a glint in her eye. “This is the best library ever.” 

* * *

“Edward!” A familiar voice loudly reprimands from the entrance. “Edward, I told you that I can carry-hey!” 

Julia peeks around the corner of the hallway. In front of the door, Jack Cabot stands with his ghoul companion Edward. Jack is, as always, dressed impeccably. He’s glaring up at Edward, arms crossed. Edward is carrying a frankly ridiculous amount of boxes, some of which he evidently just took from Jack’s arms. 

“Too heavy for you,” he teasingly says. “Let me do the heavy lifting, old man.” 

“Old man!” Jack sputters. “How dare you-”

“Jack!” Julia interrupts, sweeping into the entrance hall with all of the grace she can muster, which is not a lot considering that she’s in a worn pair of coveralls and barefoot. “And Edward too! What’s the occasion?” Her eyes fall upon the boxes. “What did you bring?” She hasn’t seen the Cabots since she helped them with their...problem at Parson’s Asylum.

Edward sits the boxes down next to the front desk, then stretches. “Moving out. We can’t take all of these books with us.” 

Books. Julia gasps. Dozens of boxes of books, all in stunning condition, preserved as well as the centuries-old family. Well, probably better, since Jack has a few gray hairs sprinkled on his head now. Not quite an old man yet, but no longer immortal. He doesn’t seem upset about it, though. Ironically, he looks younger. Happier, lighter, more carefree. 

“Of course, I am taking my first edition copy of _War and Peace_ with me,” Jack says, turning his nose up. “I’m not about to give that away.” 

“That’s...fine.” Julia’s not sure if anyone else in this whole world wanted to sit down and read that novel. Besides, the loan period for anything Tolstoy would have to be months. “This is incredible, though. I don’t know how to to thank you enough.” She runs her fingers over the spine of a scientific textbook. “Amazing. I can’t believe- this means so much to me. Please, come in. I’ll put some tea on.” 

In one of the side reading rooms, Jack catches her up on the Cabot family’s plans for the future. “Mother couldn’t last long without the serum, I’m afraid, so now it’s just me and Emogene. And Edward, of course,” he says with a fond smile. “We intend on travelling West. And since I didn’t want to leave such valuable possessions at the mercy of whatever raider managed to break through the manor’s defenses, I thought I’d bring them over to your establishment.” 

Edward nudges him and he snaps his fingers. “Oh right, I plum forgot! We were going to bring over the piano too, but Edward  _ insisted  _ that we ask you first. It’s been sitting in storage for years, only Lorenzo cared about playing-oh dear. Oh, Edward, you were right,” Jack stands and frantically thrusts a handkerchief into Julia’s hands. “Forget about the piano, it was a terrible idea, there’s no need to cry over it-” 

“No, it’s wonderful,” Julia dabs at her eyes. “It was just, the shock, you said a  _ piano?”  _ She used to play at her mother’s house, but had been forced to drop it when she joined up. She had found an intact baby grand once after the War, but she had convinced herself that there was no way to retrieve it and haul it all the way to a settlement. 

“It’s not a big deal,” Jack placatingly waves his hands, “it’s just an upright, probably out of tune, don’t bother concerning yourself with it-”

Edward puts a hand on his shoulder. “We can bring it over in a few days, if that’s alright.” 

She nods. “Yes, that’s wonderful. Thank you so much.” Her heart hurts from nostalgia. A piano. They had boxes of sheet music from the library archives. She could pick it back up, teach Shaun how to play too. Maybe she could write some new songs, fresh tunes for a fresh world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for everyone who gave suggestions! Whoever didn't make their way in this chapter will visit in 2ish chapters from now!  
> A ghoul from the Slog was TinyFakeFanficRock's suggestion! I know you said Wiseman, but Holly seemed a better fit.  
> Where did trans!Daisy headcanon come from? Hell if I know.   
> Jack and Edward were inspired by @chibikinesis' work on tumblr. I was knee-deep in Jackward stuff when I wrote this, folks.
> 
> Fun fact, berries were one of the first ways people made ink. Julia's method would have a few additions to make it better and more long-lasting, but the base ingredient would still be cheap and plentiful enough to work. 
> 
> I actually looked up whether or not libraries would have explicit materials, and most of them have some stuff, if not a separate collection. Listen, Julia's not going to be super picky about what books she salvages. Everything has worth in her eyes.


	5. Curie

There’s something wrong with the way Julia’s breathing. She can feel it, though it doesn’t seem to be serious enough to warrant worry. She’s not injured, beyond a few scrapes and bruises from the Molerats’ claws. One or two had bitten her. 

That’s more serious. But Julia doesn’t seem to be feeling the same life-threatening effects that Austin had; maybe the disease affected children more strongly. With one hand one the cold wall of the Vault, Julia traces a path down to what appears to be the main laboratory of this secret area. She comes to a large glass window, and catches a flash of movement. A Mister Handy-no, a Miss Nanny. This one doesn’t have a flamethrower, but a laser weapon. 

She clears her throat. “Hello?” 

The robot turns. “Oh, a stranger. Hello, madame. Are you Vault-Tec security?” 

“...Yes. Yes, I am.” The best response in these situations was usually to agree with what the other person assumed, usually. 

“Oh, wonderful!” The robot has a strong French accent. It’s endearing, adorable even. “Please say that you are authorized to release me from the laboratory.” 

“I am authorized to release you. Uh, who are you?” The door to the lab slides open and Julia enters. The robot hovers in front of her at eye-level, bobbing up and down slowly. 

“The human scientists called me Curie. Or, well, they called me that, when they were still alive. Here.” Curie floats a syringe up out of a refrigerator. “I have completed my work eighty-three years ago. A broad spectrum cure for any disease known to mankind. I will entrust it to you.” 

Julia sits on an examination table and wipes her bloody hands on a rag. She takes the syringe. “Thank you. My name is Julia. I will put this to good use.” There’s no thought of using it on herself. This cure will go towards Austin. “What will you do now, Curie?” 

Curie whirrs. “I am not sure. Perhaps I will travel in search of new knowledge and learning. May I accompany you, madame Julia?” 

“Of course, it-it would be a pleasure.” Oh, why is Julia getting flustered over this? Is it the curious tone in Curie’s voice? Is it her eagerness? “Let’s go, I have to get this cure up to the Vault.”

Her chest still feels heavy, but it’s been lightened by this. This is exciting. A new friend, a new adventure. 

* * *

“Oh, a library! An intact library!” Curie drifts forward and turns to face Julia. If the robot had a face, she would be smiling. “How wonderful!” 

“That means a lot, Curie. It took a lot of time to get it back up and running. Come on, we’ve got a small medical section. But maybe, with your help, we can expand it. There might even be some room in one of the back rooms for a laboratory, if we can squeeze it in there.” 

When they enter the lobby, Nick and Piper are there talking to Shaun. They turn at Curie and Julia’s approach.

“Hey, Blue!” Piper had looked a little down, but she perks up. “Preston said you were out on a mission.” 

“It wasn’t too big of a deal. Here, Piper, Nick, meet Curie. She’s a scientist from Vault 81...and she’s gone.” Curie was indeed gone into the main hall, happily chirping to herself. “Well, I’ll just let her explore. Come in, I’ll put some tea on.” 

“Actually, Piper, I’d better get back to Diamond City.” Nick tips his hat to them. “I’ll let Nat know you’ll be staying the night. You’ll be able to get back alright?” 

Julia steps in. “I’d be willing to walk you back tomorrow. Curie said she wanted to check out the rest of the Commonwealth, so I’ll take any excuse for a trip.”  _ Any excuse to hang out with you more,  _ she doesn’t say. 

Piper smiles and Julia scrawls a mental note:  _ too cute. Cannot avoid feelings forever.  _ “That sounds great!” 

* * *

“So what’s going on with Diamond City right now? Everyone seemed kind of stressed last time I went.” 

Piper shrugs, looking uneasily to the side. Her, Julia, and Curie are walking back to Diamond City, bathed in the rusty morning sunrise. “With the fall of the Institute, people are getting nervous about synths again, or rogue Institute members trying to sneak in, I think. And nobody’s seen McDonough for days.” 

The green walls of Diamond City come into view. Curie hums. “Oh, baseball! Are we here to see a game?” 

“No.” Piper looks up at the walls. “This is home.” 

The guard at the gate, if he was suspicious before, actively seems like he’s about to not let them in. Julia’s not sure if it’s because of this rising tension, Piper’s reputation, or Curie’s presence. Either way, frustration is starting to creep into her voice, and she’s having a hard time tamping it down. 

“Listen,” she snaps. “I’ve got a heavy bag full of books to deliver and I just want to go my house. That I own here. Because I live here, and so does Piper. Let. Us. In.” 

Wisely, the guard backs down. “Fine. Security’s just tight right now.” He raises his hands to shoulder height. “Fine.” 

As they trot down the ramp towards the market, Julia pauses to cough. Piper looks back with a worried frown. “You alright? You’ve been walking kind of slow.” 

“I’m fine-”

“Oh dear, it is the disease.” Curie cuts her off, worriedly spinning around Julia, the quiet hum of some diagnostic device a comforting sound. “It has weakened you. Not severely, but enough for you to notice. Please take care not to overexert yourself, madame Julia.” 

“The disease?” Piper is unusually quiet. She puts a hand on Julia’s arm, her dark eyes deep with concern. 

Diamond City is too loud to be having this conversation. “It’s not serious. Let’s talk about it inside.” Home Plate is much quieter. It feels less scary. Julia waits until the two of them are seated, Curie hovering next to them, before starting her explanation. It’s brief and to the point. “As if I could let a child die when the only consequence for me was slight inconvenience. There was no choice.” 

Piper puts a hand on top of Julia’s on the table. “Just know that you can always ask for help, okay? We’re your friends. We’ll always be here to help you.” 

_ Are we just friends? Is that what we are, friends?  _ Julia sighs and smiles. This is not the moment to confess, not with Curie here. But that doesn’t mean she can’t take joy from this intimate moment. And having Curie here doesn’t feel...wrong. “Thank you, Piper. I always know I can count on you.”

* * *

“It’s really the supports along that wall that I’m worried about.” Preston rubs his temples. He points out a few spots on the courtyard wall where the stone has cracked and crumbled. “I really do think the basement would be safer first. As far as we can tell, it’s solid.” 

“Yeah, I guess I’m just impatient.” Julia sighs. “I feel like we should have cracked this already. But it pays to be patient, I guess.” She gives Preston a sideways smile. “Thankfully, you’re here.” It’s been a little more than a week and a half since they started lending, about a week since she found Curie.

As if Julia’s thoughts summoned her, Curie floats over from the entrance to the rest of the library. “Excuse me, Julia, I have something I wish to discuss with you.” 

Preston gives them a smile. “Well, don’t let me get in your way. I’ll start planning for our eventual foray into the basement. I’ll be in Reading Room A if you need me.” 

“How’s the research going, Curie?” The intricacies of what the robot was working on were a little too complicated for Julia, but the broad goal of her research was simple: improve the medical resources of the Commonwealth.

Curie looks disappointed, which is to say that her robotic arms droop slightly and she seems less bright. “That is exactly what I wish to speak to you about. I have reached an impasse in my work, and I have deduced the cause: there has never been, and there never will be, a great robot scientist. I require more than raw analysis capabilities. I require  _ inspiration.”  _

“Inspiration? How do you plan on finding this?” 

“I will embark on an adventure. I must become human, or as close as I can.” 

Julia leans forward on the bench. It’s so easy to talk about these things with Curie, when with anyone else it would be impossible. “You want to become a synth? I know someone who can maybe help with that. Doctor Amari, in Goodneighbor. She can transfer one consciousness into the body of another person or being. Maybe that’s a solution.” 

“Interesting!” Curie perks up. “Yes. Though it may seem an impossibility, I must try.” It sounds like she’s smiling. “Let us try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the most difficult things about writing canon-compliant fic is deciding which parts of quests and dialogues to cut, and which parts to keep. Because if you're reading this, there's a high chance that you're already familiar with Curie's quest, and me just parroting bethesda's dialogue isn't really any fun for anyone, least of all me. 
> 
> Hope you're enjoying this fun library romance romp! Next chapter will see the resolution of this quest.


	6. Hancock

“The procedure will take several hours.” Doctor Amari looks Julia in the eyes. Julia is staring at Curie instead. “Do you agree to this? There is some risk, but with models of this type, it is minimal.” 

“Curie?” Julia puts her hand on her smooth metal body. It’s an odd gesture with a robot, she realizes, but it feels comforting all the same.

“I agree.” Curie turns to her. “I must try.” 

Julia will not be nervous about this. She will not acknowledge the anxiety threatening to burst from her. If something goes wrong...“Okay. I’m going to visit some people in Goodneighbor, but I’ll be back soon. I’ll be here when you wake up.” She pats Curie’s body like she would pat a human’s shoulder. “Good luck.” There’s a sudden absurd urge to kiss the metal like she would embrace a departing lover.

It’s an effort to lower her arm and turn her back. She walks up the stairs into the Memory Den, but instead of walking out the front door, she gives Irma a nod and goes to the side room. 

She knocks on the doorframe. “Kent?” 

Kent jumps up from his desk, fumbling with some papers. “Julia! The Silver Shroud herself, here to visit! Come, sit, please. Let me grab another chair. Tell me all about the library, I’ve heard about it from Hancock!” 

It’s good to hear that Julia’s request to Hancock had been filled; she had kindly asked him to look in on Kent once in a while. The terrors of the wasteland weighed heavy on the eager and over-optimistic ghoul. The news of the library would be a welcome reprieve from the dreary news that he must be accustomed to hearing. She describes the building and the growing collection of books. 

“I have something for you. I wasn’t-I wasn’t sure about it at first, but I’m really sure about it now. Here.” Kent reaches under his desk and pulls out a hefty box. He gives her a nervous smile and hands it over. It’s heavy, a weight that feels familiar. It feels like books. 

It is not books. Instead, it is filled to the brim with comics.  _ Grognak the Barbarian. Unstoppables. _ And, of course,  _ Silver Shroud  _ comics. Nearly a complete collection.

“I-this is too much, I can’t take this, Kent-” 

He waves a hand and blushes. “No, really. It’s nothing that I couldn’t bear to part with. Besides, they aren’t doing anybody any good rotting away down here.”

“Wow.” She flips through the box. The heaviness weighing on her heart intensifies: this is an impossible gift, an undeniable show of trust. People believe in her library. They want to trust her. “This is great, Kent. Thank you so much. I’ll put up a display in the comics section as soon as I get back.” 

She stashes the box in her room at Hotel Rexford. Standing alone in the cramped room, she takes a moment to herself. She catches her labored breath. Her conversation with Kent, and his gift, hadn’t helped her be less worried about Curie. It’s been a half an hour at most. Julia needs to find something better to do than sit and wait for an hour and a half. She’ll go down to the Third Rail, she decides. It’s just past five o’clock. She’ll go eat some dinner and talk to Magnolia about writing sheet music for the library. 

“Hey, sis!” Hancock intercepts her in the square, Fahrenheit trailing along behind them like a distant shadow. Hancock gives Julia a sideways hug. 

“Hey, Hancock. Are you going down to the Third Rail too?” There’s something about Hancock that makes Julia comfortable. It’s the ease with which he walks the world, or his casual demeanor, or the way he seems relaxed even in times of danger. 

Hancock nods at Ham as he steers them into the old subway station-turned bar. “Yeah. It’s real nice and quiet on a night like tonight,” a Wednesday, “and sometimes it’s nice to just kick back, you know?” He nods to Whitechapel Charlie. “Some whisky, please. And you, Julia?” 

She shakes her head. “None for me. Some water, and something small to eat, maybe some cooked Mirelurk meat, please.” 

Whitechapel Charlie bobs his head in a nod. “Comin’ right up! I’ll take it down to the VIP room, Hancock.” 

The VIP room is empty, the faded couches soft, plenty of room to sprawl, which Hancock does. Their drinks and food arrive shortly, and Julia succinctly catches Hancock up on what she’s doing here. Time seems to crawl to a halt for Julia. The clock ticks, but is it really supposed to be moving that slowly? She bounces her leg. It’s getting tiresome, waiting. It’s becoming more and more difficult to stave off her anxiety over Curie’s procedure. What if it goes wrong? What if Curie wakes up and doesn’t remember anything? Doesn’t remember her? 

What if Curie wakes up, and she doesn’t like Julia anymore? 

“A cap for your thoughts.” 

She shrugs. “Nervous. I know that Doctor Amari is good at what she does, but still…” 

“She’s gonna come out of it alright,” Hancock says, with an easy confidence. “And even if things change, change isn’t always bad. Change can bring people closer.” 

“You’re right. Even if she’s changed, she’s still going to be Curie. And she’s doing this because she  _ wants  _ to change, to evolve and become a better person, a better scientist.” A fond smile works its way onto her face. 

* * *

Julia is there when Curie wakes up, as promised. She’s sitting at the bedside as the synth that will be Curie, that  _ is  _ Curie now, stirs. There’s an unfamiliarity to the angles of her face where Julia expects smooth metal, and a softness to her limbs where sharp joints should be. 

But Julia can hold her hand as Curie’s eyes flutter open. Curie’s new hand is soft. Her eyes are deep and bright with intelligence. Amari helps her sit up. 

“What is your name?” She asks.

Curie seems to have trouble forming words, but eventually she croaks out a quiet “Curie”. 

“Good. Keep talking, please. Tell me how you feel.” 

“Strange. Heavy. Everything is so bright, but it is not as colorful somehow.” Curie looks down at where Julia is holding her hand. “Julia, you are warm. Perhaps I am feeling mildly chilled?” Strangely, her accent has remained the same, something about programming and compatible voice modules, Amari explains. 

Julia takes off her cardigan and drapes it over Curie’s slim shoulders. The color, a dusty burgundy, complements her dark olive skin. “Here. It’s a little chilly in here.” 

“Thank you.” Curie touches the fabric of the cardigan. “This is lovely. So soft. Such a beautiful color. May I hold your hand again, Julia? It is lovely too.” 

“Yeah.” Her voice cracks. Julia tries to tell herself that it’s just Curie being nervous. But that’s a flimsy excuse, and she knows it. Curie is not completely ignorant of human behaviors, though most of her knowledge seems to be theoretical and not practical. Well, they’re going to have some time to practice. 

* * *

Hancock accompanies them back to the library. He always has Julia’s back for these kinds of adventures, though this adventure is really just an hour-long walk through a mildly dangerous part of town. 

But they’ve got a heavy box of comics to transport, not including the bag of books that Julia had exchanged with the residents. She knew that it would be difficult for Daisy to make her way down to the library again to return her book, so she had sent a letter ahead, as well as to anyone else who had taken out material. 

Hancock is carrying half of the comics, and Julia has the other half. That’s what Julia tells herself, but in reality she has about thirty percent of the comics. The disease she had contracted in Vault 81 had sapped her carrying capabilities, and Hancock had been more than happy to get a solid workout. Curie has the library books because she insisted upon carrying something to test her new body’s strength capabilities. 

One of the reasons that Hancock wanted to come with them, besides working his arm muscles by carrying comic books, was to watch their backs if something happened. Julia wasn’t entirely sure what would happen if Curie got into a fight while so unaccustomed to her new body, and she didn’t want to run into a horde of super mutants only for something to go wrong, and for her to have no backup. 

“So you could add some braces to the main pillars,” Hancock suggests, very interested in their conversation about how best to reinforce the library building in order to safely access the second floor. “That’s what we did to the Old State House last year, if you can’t get in and put a whole new layer of steel and concrete on the supports. And that’s what they did in Diamond City too when they added that eyesore of an elevator.” 

“That sounds like it could help. I can talk to Preston about it. And I think we have a few architectural books. Maybe one of them has some advice.” Julia looks over at Curie, who is starting to look agitated, turning her head back and forth as if looking for something. “You okay, Curie?” 

“I am not sure. I feel frightened, as if something is about to attack us.” 

Julia peeks at her Pip-Boy radar. “We’re fine, Curie. Nothing’s around. Do you hear something? See something?” 

“No. I do not know, but I simply feel nervous. What is most concerning is that I did not feel this way when we had previously passed through here. I am worried, and I am worried about why I am worried-”

“Hey there, sis,” Hancock says. He walks so he’s on Curie’s other side. “We’re good. That’s just some good ol’ anxiety you’ve got there. It’s normal for Vault Dwellers and anyone new to the wasteland.” He gives her a grin. “But you’re safe with us. We know what’s up and how to beat the ass of anythin’ that tries anythin’ on us.” 

“This is normal? This is going to be normal?” 

Julia takes Curie’s hand and squeezes it before letting their joined hands dangle between them. “Maybe. This is normal for some people.” She looks at her feet. “It’s pretty normal for me. Only reason I’m not jumping out of my boots at every little noise is because I’m used to it now. That, and I’ve walked this route hundreds of times. But if were jumping into an abandoned mine or a creepy old museum or something like that, I would be a lot like how you are right now.” She smiles too. There’s something weird about looking Curie in the eyes now that she has human eyes. They’re gorgeous eyes, but they’re also sharp. “You’ll get used to it. And if you ever have problems with that, you know where to find me.” 

Curie is silent. She still looks like she’s borrowing this body, still moves with unsurety in her step. She’s wearing Julia’s cardigan again over a gray t-shirt and jeans. It’s simple, plain. But Curie herself is anything but plain. Julia can’t even begin to list all of the attributes that are still here in  _ this  _ Curie, this new Curie. Her keen eyes, her sharp curiosity. Intelligent like the edge of a knife but gentle like the brush of fingertips across the back of her hand. 

“Thank you, Julia.” The way she says her name is kind and sweet. “I always know I can count on you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized halfway through writing Kent's scene that I kind of write Kent like Lenny from Fallout 2 (minus the stuttering, of course)? Idk they both seem like eager friendly ghouls, and you just want to completely annihilate anyone who hurts them. Uhh maybe it's just me. 
> 
> Hancock in a way reminds me of a very close friend I have who has absolutely 0% anxiety, which is unthinkable for me. They are so confident and comfortable that it bleeds over to me a little too, and I feel like Hancock would be a good buffer against anxiety. 
> 
> Next chapter: More Visitors to the library!


	7. More Visitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How to get kicked out of a library: a guide by one Elder Maxson.

“And what about these windows, shouldn’t ya get them covered up or taken out, even if there wasn’t the threat of raiders, they really clash with the rest of the stuff ya got going on here-” Trashcan Carla is yattering away at a million miles a minute. 

Julia feels an indescribably tempting urge to bang her head against the wood of the front desk. 

“Hey, Julia?” Piper stops playing the piano in the corner of the room. “Could you tell me what this symbol means?” 

“Sure. Excuse me, Carla. Please feel free to look around and check something out if you want.”

Julia is teaching Piper and Shaun to play the piano that the Cabots had brought over. It’s a gorgeous piano, on the small side with a light sound, perfect for the echoey library. Shaun is currently out in the courtyard watching Preston and Nick prepare for getting up into the basement of the library, leaving only Piper cautiously tapping away at the keys. Curie is deep in research mode, which means that Julia hasn’t seen her for hours.

The symbol Piper is pointing to is a natural sign. “It’s a natural sign. That means that this note isn’t a B flat anymore in this measure, it’s a B natural.” 

Piper nods and replays the measure. “Thanks,” she whispers. “I already knew, but I wanted to give you an out.” She winks. The wink is definitely supposed to be a clandestine wink, but it veers off that path and right into flirty wink territory.

“You had perfect timing.” Julia blushes because that flirty wink looks  _ very  _ flirty on Piper. Their heads are close together, and Julia’s hand is inches from Piper’s on the keys. “Here, play what you have so far.” 

She only gets a measure in before the front door opens. A familiar face grins up at her from the entrance. Well, it’s not the face that’s familiar, but rather the obnoxious pair of sunglasses and dark wig that gives Deacon away this time, not that his disguises have ever been particularly complicated. 

“Hey there,” he says. Another man is following him, quietly looking around at the library. “Heard all about your cool new library. You find any Proust in here? And if you did, did you burn it?”

“Not yet. We’ve got something by Jean Genet,  _ Notre Dame des Fleurs.  _ It’s a, uh, wild one, so it’s in the back if you want it.” Julia is bursting to ask Deacon a million questions: Where has he been for the last several months since the Institute’s defeat? How is the Railroad doing? “And who’s your friend?” 

“First of all, yes  _ please  _ I want to borrow that book. I love Genet. And him?” Deacon jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “Just a kid I ran into on the way here. He’s looking for work, and I know you’re taking folks in for the Minutemen.” 

She’s travelled with him enough to know a lie when she hears it. “Yes, of course. Come into my office, we can discuss the details, and I’ll get you that book.” One of the smaller storage rooms has been repurposed into an office for her and Preston, when he’s not at the Castle. It only has a desk and a few chairs, but it’s a quiet place to work, and a private place to talk.

As soon as Julia closes the door to her office, Deacon drops the act. He sits heavily in a chair and waves at his companion to sit too. “It’s good to see you, Julia.”

“You too. Now how about you tell me what’s  _ really  _ going on.” 

He takes off his sunglasses and rubs his eyes, then puts them back on. “You’re sharp as ever. This is L-44, Chuck. Our safe houses are in kind of a precarious position right now, not to mention they’re full to bursting. Chuck needs a place to stay until it all blows over.” 

“Until  _ what  _ blows over? The Institute is gone now.” 

“Just because it isn’t raining, doesn’t mean it’s not cloudy. Lots of folks out there still fear and hate synths. In particular, the Brotherhood’s been breathing down our necks recently, and we’re running out of places to go. Diamond City still isn’t safe, and I don’t want to overload Hancock’s resources, though he’s been generous in offering Goodneighbor as a haven for escaped synths. It’s a tricky situation right now. At least the Brotherhood will be gonezo in a month.” 

Complications. All of this politics between people who should be working together to build a better world out of the wrecked wasteland. The least she can do is keep the alliances she already has and help where she can.

“Of course you can stay, Chuck. And Deacon, I can talk to Preston about what settlements would be able to handle a few extra folks. I’ll keep you updated.” 

“Thanks.” He relaxes, though it would be hard to see if Julia didn’t know him well. “Any little stress taken off us helps.”

Chuck wrings his hands. “I don’t want to be a bother-”

“And you won’t be.” Julia waves away his concerns. “Come on, I’ll get you set up with a job. Do you know how to read and write? Good. I can show you how we’re copying books.”

* * *

“Now remember to stay where Miss Edna and I can see you, children.” Mister Zwicky looks harried as he tries to herd a half a dozen children into the main room of the library. Miss Edna brings up the rear of the group, and Doctor Duff flanks them. 

“And make sure you stay with your buddy!” She chirps. “Everyone point to your buddy, please. Okay, good.” 

Julia chooses this time to make her entrance. “Welcome to the library!”

The half a dozen kids from Diamond City cheer: “Field trip! Field trip!”. This is their first time seeing anything so organized and put-together, and they are  _ loving  _ it. Julia takes them on a tour of the library, showing them how books are organized and how they are repairing old books. Miss Edna chimes in with some history about the building, and Mister Zwicky makes sure that the kids don’t fall behind or wander off. 

The group runs into Curie halfway through, and Doctor Duff peels off to discuss scientific matters with her. It’s only been a couple of days since they had returned from Goodneighbor, and Curie has settled in well. 

Finally, their tour is done, and Julia directs the group to their children’s book collection. Each student gets to pick out one book for the Schoolhouse to check out. While they browse, Julia decides to practice some piano. Shaun slips out of the back rooms to join her on the bench. He’s enjoying learning to play, but sometimes he likes to sit and watch too. 

Shaun hums along to the Schubert song she’s playing, rocking back and forth on the bench in time to the music. He’s growing up. Physically, it’s still excruciatingly slow. But mentally, he’s making leaps and bounds. Emotionally is taking a little longer, as is the case for most synths that Julia knows, but it’s getting there too. 

Under the piano music, Julia hears something outside. A loud whirring noise. She pauses the music and looks over her shoulder. A Brotherhood vertibird is landing in the square in front of the library. She gives a questioning glance to Nick, who is manning the front desk. 

“Their books are due today,” he explains. “You want me to go squirrel myself away in the back, or…?” 

“Brotherhood is going to have to learn to accept synths,” she explains. “This is a safe building for synths and ghouls and everyone the Brotherhood hates. But if you feel uncomfortable, go ahead and I can take your place.” 

A wry smile graces the old synth’s face. “Nah, it might be fun to sass them on our home turf. Besides, I went up with you to the Prydwen the first time, so they already know me.” 

“What about me, Mom?” Shaun looks worried, just as he did when the Brotherhood visited last time. “Do you want me to hide?” 

She picks up the song from the beginning. “If you want to. You can go hang out with Curie and have her explain all of her experiments to you.” 

He stands from the bench. “Yes. I will be with Curie if you need me.” 

The front door of the library opens, and Julia hears the heavy footfalls of power armor in addition to lighter steps. She doesn’t turn around. There’s a particularly difficult arpeggio, and she  _ really  _ needs to pay attention to the piano. She takes a repeat that she wouldn’t normally take, adding a solid minute to the song. As the last notes trail away into silence, she keeps her hands on the keys for a second longer than necessary, then lifts them and places them into her lap, graceful as if she was performing in a concert. Finally, she turns. 

Elder-fucking- _ Maxson  _ is standing in front of the desk, visibly uncomfortable as he tries very hard not to acknowledge Nick. Behind him, a Knight and a Paladin stand, and to their side is Scribe Haylen, all three of them carrying books. Haylen gives her a nervous smile. 

Julia stands and brushes imaginary dirt off her overalls. She always feels like she should be dressed up for these sorts of occasions. After all, Maxson is the  _ leader  _ of this branch of the Brotherhood. Before, when she had met with Maxson for Brotherhood missions, that was casual. She was his military subordinate. But now, she’s his equal. 

But while her overalls might be utilitarian, they’re an armor, a symbol. She works hard to achieve her dreams, and it shows. Besides, she’s not  _ sloppy.  _ A collared blouse and bright cravat are tucked into the sturdy denim, and the overalls are wide-legged, giving her the impression of being larger than she is. Her silhouette is imposing but not frightening. 

She’s barefoot. 

“Elder Maxson, what a surprise! What could bring you all the way out here for a personal visit?”

He crosses his arms behind his back. “I have a matter to discuss with you, General.” Unsmiling. 

“Certainly. I will take you to my office. In the meantime,” she addresses the other Brotherhood members, “please respect the rules regarding weaponry in the main hall, and try not to scare the children. Happy reading.” 

On the way down the hallway to Julia’s office, she mentally prepares herself. What could Maxson need to personally speak to her about? The Brotherhood is scheduled to move on in one month. Was there a problem? Was this about her resignation a month and a half ago? 

She waves Maxson to a seat and takes her own chair behind the desk. An absurd desire to put her feet up on the desk rises, but is quickly repressed. There’s no sense in turning relaxed liberty into flippant disrespect. 

“Now that the Institute is defeated, our work is more important than ever.”  _ His  _ work, Julia mentally corrects. “The threat to humanity is greater than ever, as other unsavory groups will see the power gap as an opportunity. They will try to harness the Institute’s power and knowledge for their own gain. We must work to avoid this outcome.” 

Julia gives a diplomatic smile. She already  _ knows _ the Brotherhood’s mentality. “Frankly, Elder Maxson, I already understand your mission. But what that brings you to my doorstep today?”

“We have heard news of an escaped synth hiding in this area. You can understand how serious of an issue this is. It is our mission to eliminate the synth threat, and one little organization called the Railroad, of which you are familiar, is making it very difficult for us to do that. All I ask is your cooperation with this matter. We do not want to interfere with the Minutemen’s work any more than necessary.” 

Her legs have turned to ice. Maxson’s words may be noble-sounding, but his true motives and ethical compass are anything but. The Brotherhood is hunting all synths, and there are quite a few in the library at the very moment: Nick, Shaun, Curie, Chuck, not counting the strange relationship between Zwicky and Edna that the Brotherhood would surely be disgusted by. 

“You intend to destroy every synth you encounter?” She asks, clarifying in order to buy herself time to think. With the ease of diplomatic practice, she keeps her face neutral. 

“Of course, General.” He says it like it means nothing, like pulling weeds in a garden. “It is the only way to protect humanity.” 

Julia has heard enough. “I’m afraid you misunderstand the Minutemen, Elder. Our mission is to protect every individual in the Commonwealth, not just who we deem worthy. Not just humanity. I’m afraid I cannot allow you to hurt those who we have sworn to protect.” 

Maxson’s frown deepens. Has the man ever smiled in his life? Does he frown and grumble even in his sleep? He is as stern as an old man, but he’s not a day over twenty. Ironic, his stance on giving power to those unworthy of it. “You think these monsters are worth protecting? They will destroy us all. Technology destroyed this world once, and it will again.” 

“First of all, don’t you  _ dare  _ ignore the role that humanity itself had in that destruction, and don’t you  _ dare  _ compare innocent people to the annihilation the atomic bomb created. Those are not equal, and to say otherwise would be insulting.” She stands, icy anxiety turning to fiery irritation. “And it’s worth noting that your oh-so-precious humanity wreaked this destruction  _ precisely  _ because they viewed the other side as nothing more than ants to be crushed,  _ precisely  _ because they thought that they were somehow more equipped to handle technology than the ‘helpless lowlifes’ of the rest of the world. Let me tell you, Elder Maxson, it’s a situation that I find eerily mirrored when looking at you and your  _ Brotherhood.”  _

He rises to his feet too, teeth gritted in a snarl, his composure obviously cracking at the insult. “You will break our alliance over this? Over the choice to allow yourself to be back-stabbed by people that I’m just trying to  _ protect  _ this world from?”

“Really? Go take a break from this laughable paranoia, Maxson. Yes, my  _ son  _ is going to betray me. Yes, my best friend who did everything to help me find my son is a menace. Yes, my brilliant scientist girlfriend is going to kill me in my sleep. Yes, the quiet young man with impeccable handwriting is secretly an assassin.” Did she just call Curie her  _ girlfriend? _ “The Institute is  _ gone,  _ Maxson. It’s time to move on and focus on actually  _ helping  _ people.” 

“You dare insult the Brotherhood?” Maxson’s fury is a wonderful distraction from Julia’s slip-up. “You seek to undermine all that we stand for, all of the work we do to improve this world. All I want to do is make your godforsaken library a safer place-”

“You will not  _ touch  _ this library!” There is nothing more that Julia wants than to explode on Maxson right now. But she needs to keep a level head. “Every single person here is under  _ my  _ protection and the protection of the Minutemen, and I will not betray that trust.” 

“Fine!” He snaps, furious condescension leaking into his voice. “I’ll just leave you all to destroy yourselves all over again, because you can’t fucking see two feet in front of your own goddamn noses-”

“Get out.” Julia points to the door. “Leave. Now. You and your views are no longer welcome here. For the safety of all who I’ve sworn to protect, I ban you from setting foot in this library ever again.” 

He sputters, puffing up like an enraged Mirelurk. “You dare-” 

Julia opens the door to the hallway. She flings her arm out in a sarcastic sweeping gesture. “I do dare. This is my establishment, Elder Maxson, and using it is a privilege that you have just lost. I was willing to give you the benefit of neutrality until you threatened my people and attempted to manipulate my trust and respect. Your people are not representative of you, so they may continue business as usual. But as for you, I must ask that you please leave.” 

His glare signals a fight brewing, but he obviously knows when he’s beaten. With a huff and a whirl of his long coat, he stomps out the door. Julia stands in the hallway and watches his retreating back until he reaches the front door, opens it, and slams it behind him. 

“Rough conversation, huh?” Nick asks, wincing as Julia re-enters the front room. The Paladin in power armor ducks out the front door after Maxson, while the Knight and Scribe Haylen work with a Minutemen volunteer to check out the books for the Prydwen crew. A few of the Diamond City children run around in the lobby. “What in the world did you two talk about that could cause him to leave in such a huff?”

Julia scuffs her bare foot on the floor. Now, no longer faced with the object of her anger, she just feels tired. It’s a good thing she stopped herself from getting more worked up about it. “I kicked him out of the library. I’ll tell you about it later.” 

“Kicked out of the library?” Haylen gasps. “Did he say something? He’s always been loose with his tongue.” 

“I’m not going to kick someone out for merely insulting me. No, it was a little more, uh, serious than that. Things were said, you know how these things go. I’m willing to accept an apology and allow him to remotely check out books, but I cannot risk the safety of my people for the ego of one man.” She shrugs. “But enough about that. It’s good to see you, Haylen.” 

“It’s great to see you too.” She pulls a small book from the side pocket of her bag. “Hold on, I wanted to donate this to the library.  _ Brave New World,  _ by Aldous Huxley. A classic with some excellent messages.” The word “messages” is punctuated by a wink. “One of my friends used to love it, but he passed it onto me.” 

There’s something slipped between those words, as there’s something tucked between two of the pages. Julia cracks it open and sees a letter addressed to “My dear friend Danse”. She shuts the book. “Thank you. I’ll ensure that it gets properly taken care of.”

“That’s all I ask.” Haylen pats her on the shoulder, and Julia turns it into a hug. This could be the last time she sees Haylen. Any time could be the last time in their line of work. 

“Good luck out there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for everyone who suggested something!   
> The Schoolhouse and Science!Center scientists: @kourumi on Tumblr  
> Trashcan Carla (anon)  
> Scribe Haylen (TinyFakeFanficRock)  
> @packratimp if you're reading this, I couldn't fit Arcade or Veronica in, but I did write something [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14938173/chapters/34629930) (NSFW), because for some reason that's all my writing-blocked brain could come up with. 
> 
> Julia is playing [Impromptu Opus 142 no.2](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v8__NcNiEYc)by Schubert. One of my favorites to play. Also, Julia may not swear, but she will bust out some sick power moves. Also, Julias overalls outfit is based off of [these 1950's overalls](https://vintagedancer.com/wp-content/uploads/1937-Hollywood-overalls-pants.jpg).
> 
> Proust had a lot of homosexual themes in his works, so I picked Jean Genet for Deacon to read (based off a dialogue line that implies Deacon knows who Proust is, which is wild bc a lot of ppl today don't know who that was). 
> 
> I know this is a wild comparison, but Maxson started sounding like First Citizen Lynette (Fallout 2), but what's the worst is that I actually like Lynette better than him???? I, no joke, had to tone down Maxson's dialogue because it started getting a little too...bad. Also some of his canon dialogue lines? Looks bad, Maxson. There's a line in there about how proud he is that nobody in his crew asked questions about their mission, and something that directly compares synths to total nuclear annhilation, which is not a comparison that I think Julia would be super stoked about. 
> 
> Next chapter: Piper


	8. Piper

“Alright, equipment check time.” Preston looks at Julia and Piper. “Lights.”

Piper and Preston turn on their headlamps, then back off. Julia does the same with her Pip-Boy light. Then, they verify their protective gear, then their weaponry. They aren’t bringing much, since not much resistance is expected. Julia has her baseball bat strapped across her back, Preston has a knife, and Piper a pistol. 

“You ready, Julia?” 

She gives a decisive nod. “Let’s go.” 

After weeks of preparation, they had finally deemed it safe to explore the basement of the library. After testing the structural integrity of the walls, they had decided to enter through the boarded-up portion of the crumbled first floor where it met the courtyard. They were to wrap around the building as far as they could, then come back. Julia’s memory isn’t great, but she’s pretty sure the basement only takes up half the building, only until the southern set of collapsed stairs.

Preston leads with a light. Julia half-crouches and follows with her dimmer but less glaring Pip-Boy light. Piper, armed with a notebook and a pen, follows up the rear. She was acting as a cartographer today, creating a rough map of the basement and noting any points of interest or danger. She’s a solid presence at Julia’s back. 

“In here,” Preston whispers, his voice echoing strangely in the confined space. It’s so dark and dusty, it’s near impossible to see more than a few feet in front of them. Preston steers them into a small room to the left. 

The light dances on tables and chairs. “Some kind of study room,” Piper guesses. There are crumbling books on the tables, scraps of cloth that could have once been bags on the ground. Something crunches under Julia’s boot and she lets out a sound that is distressingly close to a whimper. 

“I’m fine,” she says, her voice starting to seem too close in her own ears. “Just stepped on something, probably bones.” She shivers. “Let’s move on.” 

Across the hall is another study room. A few of the books here are intact, as are two skeletons still sitting in the chairs. After a quick glance at the titles of the books, they seem to be textbooks. This wing must have had study rooms for the local university students. They find two more rooms, one of them containing piles of textbooks on language, history, and science. Because the basement saw less destruction than the main floor, books here are relatively intact, and pages are readable. It’s a stroke of good luck they’re in dire need of. 

“This room looks different,” Piper notes as they duck into a smaller room. It’s filled with deep shelves. “These aren’t books, these are something else.” She tucks her notebook into her pocket and brushes some dust off a large flat object. “Oh. Blue, come look.” 

Maps. Large maps kept in archival cases that have protected them from the elements for centuries. They’ve been looking for something to fill the display cases they have in the archive room, and this would be a great addition to their collection.

Next room also has an unusual storage method: large file cabinets. Preston cracks one open and coughs at the dust. He peeks inside and gasps. “Piper. Julia. They must have the whole history of every newspaper in Boston in here.” 

The file cabinets are filled with newspapers in archival boxes. The one that Preston has found is from 1832. 

Piper is giddy with excitement. “This is wonderful, Blue!” She grabs Julia’s arm. “All of this history, right beneath our feet this whole time!” 

“It is wonderful,” she agrees. Emboldened by a stroke of courage and optimism, she takes Piper’s hand. “Let’s keep going. It still looks like there’s one more room in this hallway.” 

The last room is bigger than the others. The first thing they notice, as they shine their lights throughout the space, is the massive numbers of books laying about. Then, at the end of the room, a chute next to a busted terminal.

“Yes!” Julia grins. “This is where the overdue books people turn in go. I knew it had to be in here somewhere. What’s more, this is where the front desk would send books that were turned in.” 

She can’t see Preston’s face, but she can hear the smile in his voice. “This is great. Let’s get out of here and start sending in teams to sort all of this. Piper, do you have your map-”

A loud crash of glass sounds out above their heads on the first floor. Julia startles and jumps backwards, still holding onto Piper’s hand. 

“What was that-”

Another loud thump, then the sounds of gunfire, the sharp rattle of turrets. Shouts, muffled curses, boots loud against the floor above them. It flatly echoes in the claustrophobic space.

“Raiders,” Preston gasps, already running for the way they had entered the basement. Julia and Piper are on his heels, Julia grabbing the baseball bat from her back and readying it.

A loud thump, then another. They’re like rats in a tunnel down here, no escape except they way they came in, an unseen battle raging on above their heads. A thumping sound that reverberates through the walls and ceiling of this narrow hallway, then a sharp crack. The ceiling spiderwebs and splinters.

“Watch out!” Julia tackles Piper to the side as part of the ceiling collapses, sending concrete and dust out in a billowy cloud. They hit the ground and roll, the sharp edges of the tile floor scraping Julia’s knees and elbows.

“Are you okay?” Preston shouts. Being slightly farther ahead than them, he had escaped the crash. 

“I’m fine!” She yells back. “Go on ahead!” She coughs and rolls to a sitting position. “Piper, are you okay?” 

“I think so.” Piper’s holding her ankle, wincing. Dust is sprinkled across her cheekbones like someone took a blush compact and filled it with dirt. “My foot-ow- my ankle is busted, I think.”

Julia stands and grabs Piper under her arms, hauling her up with a groan. “Come on, let’s get out of here-”

“Just leave me,” Piper insists. “Seriously, Blue. It’ll take forever for you to haul me that far. You’re needed upstairs. I’ll meet you there.” 

“No.” Leave Piper behind? Unthinkable. “Absolutely not. Get on my back.” Piper shakes her head and starts to argue. “I am  _ not  _ leaving you behind, Piper. They can handle whatever’s going on. Now come on, we’re wasting time. Get on.” 

When Piper’s full weight is slowly transferred to her back, Piper’s legs wrapped around Julia’s waist and her arms around her shoulders, Julia remembers the Molerat disease. Oh well. She can handle a quick sprint even with this weight. The hallway isn't that long; she can already see the exit. 

Halfway through, it feels like she’s ran a marathon. Another crash behind them shakes the floor and a cloud of dust momentarily blinds Julia. She grits her teeth and keeps going, trying to keep her breathing steady, ignoring the burn in her arms and legs. Above them, the battle quietens, until it fades away to silence. 

When they emerge out into the courtyard, the first thing they see is Preston running towards them. He slows when he catches sight of them. “Are you okay? I was worried you hadn’t gotten out before it collapsed again-”

“We’re fine.” Julia sets Piper down on a bench and sits heavily next to her. She puts her head between her legs and coughs until every heaving cough is like clumps of sandpaper in her throat. 

Preston mutters something panicked and runs into the library calling Curie’s name. She comes at a jog, a doctor’s bag under her arm.

“I’m fine, Curie,” Piper says, rubbing circles in Julia’s back. “Worry about Julia.”

Curie kneels in front of Julia and unhooks a stethoscope from her neck. She presses it against Julia’s chest. “Please attempt to take a deep breath.” Julia does try, but a wheezing cough comes out instead. “Try again.” 

This time, her breathing sounds a little less like she’s on death’s door. “Good. Again.” Another breath. “I am concerned about this, Julia. It was simply a flare-up, but a serious one. Please rest for the remainder of the day. I will give you a Stimpack, but I am unsure if it will greatly help.” 

At another time, Julia would argue. But right now she agrees with Curie. Rest will do her good. She leans against Piper’s shoulder and focuses on breathing while Curie bandages up Piper’s sprained ankle. 

Preston and Curie help Piper and Julia get up the courtyard stairs and into the living quarters. 

“Status report, please,” Julia says, settling down on her bed. 

He sits next to her, which means bad news. A lot of information to give, news that she might need physical comfort for. “The part that they broke in was the already-collapsed part, but we lost those two office rooms we were thinking of renovating. Some of the windows are busted. We also lost most of the newspaper room we found. That’s what almost fell in on our heads.”

Piper makes a small noise of disappointment. She’s sitting on her other side. Julia’s stomach is tight. What else went wrong? What else did they lose?  _ Who  _ did they lose?

Preston continues as if reading her thoughts. “Five Minutemen were injured in the attack, one of them severely. She’ll take a couple of weeks to fully recover, but she’s stable. Nobody...died.” With every word, it’s clear that he’s trying to avoid some piece of bad news. “We did lose Robby. Nick’s trying his best, but hardware-wise he’s toast. His motherboard is snapped clean in half and horribly burned. The main raider had power armor and some big blade weapon, did some real damage and then threw him to the floor. It’s what the made the building almost come down on us.” He puts an arm around Julia’s shoulder, then says nothing. 

It’s silly, crying over a robot. Robby hadn’t even had an advanced AI like Codsworth or Curie. He was just a Protectron who’d been guarding the library for centuries, who’d been there from the very beginning. 

“Come on, Curie,” Preston whispers, and gives Julia’s shoulder one last pat. “Everyone else needs us.” Preston is reliable like that, always knowing when to comfort her and when to give her space. The two of them exit the room, leaving Julia alone with Piper. 

Piper opens her arms for a hug and Julia accepts. Piper is warm and strong and comforting. She smells of ink and dust, her faded red coat soaked with an earthy leather scent. 

“It’s just frustrating,” Julia mutters into the fabric. She pulls back a little, keeping her head tucked into Piper’s shoulder and her eyes down. “We’ve come so far, but something like this can still ruin us. It’s a miracle nobody died, but that can’t happen every time. And I don’t know if I can live with myself if someone lays their life down for this, for my  _ worthless  _ library!” 

“Hey. Don’t talk like that. This matters to all of us. Nobody would be here if they didn’t care, Julia.” 

“Still.” She sniffles. Something else is weighing heavy on her heart. “You can’t do that again, Piper. Please don’t ever ask me to-to leave you behind again. It’s not fair, to me or to you.” 

A silence falls between them, and Julia starts worrying if maybe she’s messed everything up by saying that-

“What do you mean?” Piper sounds honestly curious. “I was going to be fine. You don’t always need to worry about little ol’ me. I was serious, Julia. You should have just gone and helped upstairs-”

“No,” she snaps. Anxiety is thrumming hot and fast in her fingertips, and it’s turning into reckless irritation. “Stop that. Just stop saying that.”  _ I care about you,  _ she wants to say, but she's not going to lose her courage this time. “I love you, Piper, and I’m never going to just  _ leave you behind.”  _ She shuts her eyes and waits for the eventual rejection, the gasp of disappointment as the person she’s confessing to realizes that she’s been harboring these feelings. 

“You...you love me?” Piper doesn’t sound angry, or disgusted, or like she’s going to push Julia away. In fact, she scoots closer. “Julia, do you really mean that? Why?” 

“Why? Why what?” 

Now it’s Piper’s turn to look uncomfortable. “It’s not that I don’t think about you that way too, because I do, but it’s just that I’m not an easy person to like, Julia. I’m loud and I’m pushy and some might even call me a nosy bitch. But you’re not like that at all. So why would someone like you want to be with someone like me?” 

“But you’re perfect for me,” Julia protests. “Really, Piper. I love all of you, not just the bits that are picture-perfect. It’s the real you that I care about.” 

“Wow, Blue, I don’t know what to say.” Piper nervously chuckles. “This is, well, this is incredible! I never thought that you’d reciprocate my feelings. After all, we don’t exactly have the most traditional of relationships.” Julia laughs at that. “Can I-could I kiss you?” Her voice does that adorable thing where it turns up at the end in a squeak. 

The pressure on Julia’s chest eases. She lifts her head and smiles, a watery grin that’s slowly getting wider and more optimistic. “Yes.” 

And so they do. It’s soft and hesitant and awkward as Piper’s nose bumps her own, and they both laugh. It’s perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...not Robby the Protectron... Named of course after Robby the Robot from The Forbidden Planet.
> 
> Some of the library's layout and collection is based off of the real-life Boston Public Library.


	9. Curie (again)

Preston shifts from foot to foot as Piper takes the large stack of paper from him. “I’m not the best with punctuation, and there may be some grammatical mistakes that I missed, and I wasn’t sure if I should put the appendices in a different order, with the map at the front of the book and the other documents at the back-”

“Preston.” Piper smiles and sits back in her chair. Her sprained ankle is elevated on another chair. “It’ll be great. Besides, I write for a living. I can catch anything you missed, and if it seems in a strange order, I’ll tell you.” She picks up a pen. “Do you mind if I mark on it?” 

He waves a hand. “Please. Go ahead and mark it all up. I’m already going to have to make a fresh final manuscript anyways, what with all of the changes I already made.” 

Julia watches the exchange before remembering something. She digs in the chest of drawers next to her bed and pulls out a few pieces of paper. “Piper, can you read this too if you get a chance? I wrote an introduction for the book.” She smiles at Preston. “I hope you don’t mind.” 

“No, no, that’s great, I was going to ask you to write one anyways.” The excitement of finally having a finished manuscript of the Minutemen history book is lighting up Preston’s face. He’s been working on the book in every moment of his limited free time, muttering to himself about word choice and tone, and discussing history with Ronnie Shaw for hours, diligently taking notes and asking complicated questions. It’s a labor of love, and it’s going to be wonderful once it’s finally done and printed. Piper already said that they can use her presses. 

Piper. All of the mess that happened with the basement expedition and raider attack was yesterday. Where do they stand? More than friends, for sure, but are they official? Are they committed? How serious is this? 

“Julia.” Preston breaks her out of her thoughts. “We’re starting to bring books out of the basement, if you want to come help sort.”

“Yeah,” she says, too fast, tearing her eyes away from Piper. “Yeah, I’ll help.” She was still supposed to be resting, so book sorting and breakdown was an acceptable job in lieu of helping build a ladder. The ladder to get up to the second floor, and the joints for the pillars where they were going to be climbing up, would be too strenuous for her, according to Curie. 

Speaking of Curie, she’s up in the archives room with a Minuteman volunteer, sorting out medical books. Julia sits next to her and takes a pile of unusable books to start tearing apart. 

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you outside the lab for more than a few minutes. How is your research going?” 

Curie fumbles with a book, dropping it in her lap. “Frustrating. This research, while being a synth, it is all so overwhelming. I am still learning to master myself.” Her shoulders droop and she sets aside the book onto the “needs repair” cart. “Inspiration is still as elusive as ever. I find myself constantly distracted by inconsequential thoughts, feelings. I fear I will be a failure. How do you manage, Julia?” 

“It takes time.” Julia privately wonders, considering how Curie’s been watching her lately, if some of those “distracting” thoughts were about her. “I’m always here for you, and so is everyone else here. And do you remember me talking about Danse? He’ll be down here in a month, once the Brotherhood leaves. He’s still figuring this stuff out too, maybe you two could sit down together and compare notes.” She scoots over on the seat to bump Curie’s shoulder. “And remember that your work should never be more important than your mental health. If you find yourself getting lost in the whirlwind, always put yourself first. I don’t want to see you getting sick because you’re overworking yourself, or anything. I care about you, Curie, everyone here does.” 

“And yet when you say things like that,” Curie blushes, “there goes my head again. Spin, spin, spin, and my heart is so loud and it pulls me away when all I want to do is progress.” She inspects the spine of a medical textbook, then puts it on the “good condition” cart. “It is so hard to focus. To do research.” 

Julia has an idea. She was just talking to Preston about  _ his  _ book. “Why don’t you write a book? Or even a medical manual, or a collection of your research notes. It could be something different to focus on when you get stuck with research.” 

“Oh. Are you sure? I would not get all of the grammar correct, and it may take a long time to write.” 

“Listen, Preston wrote a book, and he’s not a trained super-smart doctor like you.” Julia grins. “Besides, his took a long time too. Piper just started editing it today, and I’ll probably do a readthrough too, plus more editing and rewriting time. Nothing has to be perfect on the first try, Curie.”

Curie thoughtfully nods. Then she sits up straighter in her seat and throws the book in her hands to the side. “That’s it!” She snaps her fingers. “That’s the-I’ve got it now-I have to get back to the lab-”

And she’s gone, tripping over the loose tile in the floor before catching herself on the doorframe and continuing on down the hallway. 

Julia fondly smiles and turns back to her work. This work is a comforting routine: just her, a knife, and some ruined books. The crumbling and burnt paper is rough against her hands, but some of the cloth covers are worn and soft. She stays and methodically dismantles destroyed books until Shaun fetches her for dinner. 

* * *

The library at night is an experience. The people inside the building might be quiet, but the structure itself is not. The wind pokes fingers into cracks in the walls and gaps in the windows. Shaun’s bed creaks as Julia stands and she winces, but her son doesn’t stir. He’d recently started having nightmares, and it had taken all of her coaxing and comforting to get him back to sleep. 

But now she can’t sleep, not that she couldn’t sleep before, so she walks. From the living quarters to the entrance hall. Nick is reclining with his feet up on the front desk, scribbling away at a pad of paper. 

“Waiting for the ink to dry,” he murmurs, inclining his head towards a book on the desk that he’s in the middle of copying. “Thought I’d relax a little.” 

“What are you writing?” Julia tries to peek over his shoulder, but he covers up the page. 

“Oh, you know.” His gruff voice has a hint of embarrassment. If his synthetic skin could blush, he’d be bright red. “A short story. It’s just a hobby. I have a lot of free time.” At her raised eyebrow, he uncovers the page. 

“The mysterious woman deftly unlocked the terminal that held the unlucky detective captive. Three minutes and counting until Skinny Malone’s boys would realize the gig was up. Would they make it out alive? Despite the harrowing situation, he couldn’t help but offer a sarcastic observation: ‘Gotta love the irony of the reverse damsel-in-distress situation.’” She stops reading and bursts into muffled giggles. “Nick, that’s great! A novelization of our first adventure!” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he waves his skeletal hand, obviously still embarrassed about it. “It’s just a silly story.” 

If everyone’s going to be writing a book… “No, listen, you should write more. We can put a couple of stories together into a volume. Folks will go crazy for stories about your cases, Nick.” 

He realizes that she’s not joking. “Okay, if you insist. Names of anyone still alive are changed, of course. I’ve got a couple fiction ones too, if that’s going to be a problem.” 

“Not at all. We need some more fiction that people can really relate to now. The exploits of Detective Valentine and his plucky human companion. It’ll be like Elijah and Daneel, but backwards.” 

“Who?” 

Despite the late hour, Julia gets very excited. “Oh my goodness,  _ really?  _ You haven’t read the Asimov detective series? Come on,” she drags him up out of the chair and into the main hall. “You  _ need  _ to read this, Nick. I think we’ve got _The_ _ Caves of Steel,  _ yes, here it is.” She plops the paperback into his hands. “Read away. It’s a great one. Have a good night, Nick.” 

“Thanks?” He frowns at her as she turns away. “Hey, what are  _ you  _ doing awake? Go to bed, Julia.” 

She waves a hand. “Shaun had a nightmare. I’m just doing one lap around the building, then I’m turning in!” She calls over her shoulder. 

“That’s what Preston said, three laps ago!” He retorts. “Tell him to get some sleep too!” 

Julia does run into Preston, walking around the library circuit in the opposite direction as her. He gives her a tired nod and she gives him a pat on the shoulder. 

It’s a restless library tonight. She finds Piper in the archive room slumped half-asleep over a pile of papers. 

“Piper, wake up,” Julia whispers, shaking her shoulder. 

“Yeah!” Piper sits up with a start. “Sorry, Julia, I just nodded off.” 

“What are you doing?” There’s an inkwell and pen next to the paper. “What’re you writing?” 

Piper rubs her eyes. “Stuff for the paper. Kessler from Bunker Hill wrote to me, something about caravan trade lines being affected by the Brotherhood or something, and I was trying to put a short article together about it. I just,” she sighs, “I should really go to bed.” 

“You should. Take care of yourself, Piper.” Julia leans down to kiss her, but hesitates and loses her nerve. But Piper takes the initiative and leans up to kiss her, and her nervousness melts away. This is  _ Piper,  _ after all. She has nothing to be nervous about. This is just new, is all. 

“I love you,” Piper whispers, brushing a wisp of her dark hair from her cheek. In the oddly technicolor moonlight coming through the tinted library windows, she shines. Her light green eyes graze across Julia’s cheeks. “I’m turning in now, I promise. You should too.” 

“I will,” Julia promises, and she does mean it. She knows the debilitating effects of sleep deprivation. “I was just up because Shaun had a nightmare. He’s asleep again now, so I thought I’d just do a lap around the library before turning in again.” She yawns. “Are you going to be able to get back on your crutches, or should I carry you?” 

Piper grins. “Much as I’d love for you to carry me, you really shouldn’t. How about you just walk me back instead?” 

They walk at a slow pace back to the sleeping quarters, Piper on her crutches and Julia enjoying the quiet. It’s not unlike walking a girlfriend back home with the Boston city lights shining down on them, or even waiting with a date at the bus stop. Such days of old-fashioned courtship rituals are behind her, but there’s still something familiarly comforting in the way she holds a door open for Piper. 

One light is still on in the library, seeping under the door to the storage room where Curie’s makeshift lab is located. 

“Curie’s still up at this hour,” Piper whispers, her voice barely louder than a breath. She looks at Julia. “I’m good to get back on my own. Go make sure she’s okay. She’s probably overworking herself too.” 

There’s something intensely relieving, though Julia doesn’t know why, in the fact that Piper and Curie have obviously become friends. A lot of people don’t take to Piper’s relentless questions and direct attitude, and Julia can see how Curie’s ceaseless questions and sometimes naive honesty-oh. It’s obvious. They were always going to get along together. 

“I’ll go check in on her.” Julia kisses Piper again, because she can. “Good night, Piper.” 

“Good night, Julia.” 

Curie’s lab is cramped, tucked into a corner of the main storage room. She doesn’t need more than some table space and various small scientific instruments. They had managed to salvage a working microscope, which Curie is bent over as Julia enters. 

This is not the first time she’s had to do this. Most everyone in the Minutemen is known for being hardworking, sometimes a little too much. She’s walked into Preston’s office at the Castle more times than she can count to find him half-asleep over his desk, hands and face smeared with ink as he tries to wrap up that one report that he just  _ has  _ to finish right then. And Julia has a terrible habit of staying up late repairing armor or modifying her weapons, and often doesn’t stop until the exhaustion makes her clumsy. Now, with no Institute to fight, that habit has turned into repairing books until early in the morning. She’s gotten better, though, they all have. This late night is a rarity in her routine. 

“Curie?” Julia quietly says as not to startle her. 

“One moment, please.” She notes something on a pad of paper, then straightens. “Oh, Julia. I did not expect to see you this late in the evening.” She looks terrible, dark circles under her eyes standing out in the dim light. There’s something colorless about her skin, too, and her hair seems to droop.

“Neither did I.” Julia walks over and puts an arm around Curie’s shoulders, steering her out of the lab. “Let’s go for a walk.” 

“But my research-”

“Can wait until tomorrow. Are you  _ really  _ going to get any further in this state? When you’re tired, you make stupid mistakes. Believe me, I know.”

Curie shrugs. “I suppose. I am still having difficulties focusing on my work. And when I do, I feel unsatisfied with what I have done.” They pass through the entrance room, and Nick looks up from his book and gives them a nod, surprise in his sharp yellow eyes at seeing Curie with her. “But I am close, I believe. Just some more work, then perhaps I will have something important.” 

They take a detour through the archive room and into the courtyard. It smells heavy and wet. Instead of angling for a bench, Julia kicks off her light sandals and sits on the edge of the path with her toes in the dirt. She pats the worn brick next to her. “Come sit, Curie.” 

With hesitance clear in her jerky movements, Curie toes off her loafers and sits cross-legged. She runs her fingers across the leaf of a mutfruit plant. 

The library encircles them, a silent protector. It is heavy and real like a living thing, like a nest to nurture. A palace for the people, it used to be called, and it shows in the way each cornerstone was artfully and gently placed. Now it is a monument to a different time, but it also serves as a reminder of constancy; centuries later, and it is still a library. It still lives to serve and teach. Unlike Diamond City, which is both change and stubbornness when faced with change, it has remained loyal to its founding values. 

“How about we take a day off tomorrow?” Julia suggests, breaking their comfortable silence. She wiggles her toes in the dirt. “A mental health day, if you will. Just the two of us.”

“A day off?” Curie skeptically frowns. “But I will fall behind-” At Julia’s serious look, she falters and sighs. “To be truthful, there is not much progress to be lost. What would this ‘mental health day’ entail?”

“Whatever we want, so long as it isn’t the work we normally do. I usually play with Shaun and catch up on chores I need to do. Mending, laundry. Then, I’ll make a really good lunch and maybe help do gardening or construction, though those can both wait until I’m over the flare-up of the molerat disease. But I can probably handle some weeding. What do you think?” 

Curie uncrosses her legs and puts her feet in the dirt too. “That will be fun. Perhaps if Monsieur Preston approves, I may read his manuscript. Or, if that is not available, there have been a few novels from the library’s collection that have piqued my interest.” She touches some longer strands of her jet-black hair. “The front of my hair is quite charming, but the back is becoming too long for comfort. Would anyone in the library be willing to trim it for me?” 

“Hancock is really good at cutting hair, surprisingly. He said he might be coming by tomorrow or the day after. If he’s not here, Preston’s not half bad either. We can ask him.” She puts an arm around Curie’s shoulder. “It’s a plan. For now, though, let’s go to sleep.” 

“Thank you, Julia,” Curie quietly says, staring off to the side. “I appreciate your concern for me, and it pleases me that you do not take to treating me like an infant when I find myself lost. You are a dear friend and I appreciate all that you do to make me happy.” 

Julia squeezes her shoulder, finding herself grinning fondly. “Anything for you, Curie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Piper is that one friend who will always proofread your papers for you, and Preston is that one friend that insists his paper is terrible but always gets an A because it's actually the best paper ever written. 
> 
> The Asimov detective series (The Caves of Steel, The Naked Sun, The Robots of Dawn) is one of my favorite both sci-fi and detective series ever! It features a human detective (Elijah) who is paired with a prototype robot detective (Daneel). Elijah hates robots at first, but eventually they become close friends and it is the best buddy-cop duo/ambiguously gay detectives that I've ever read!
> 
> I never should have made the chapter names character names, because I have of course run out of names...


	10. Interlude - Mental health day!

“Mental health day?” Preston knowingly asks. 

“You bet.” Julia finishes chewing and nods at a pan on the cookfire. “There’s still some breakfast left. Mirelurk egg omelette with some chopped carrots.” 

He flops an omelette onto a corn tortilla and folds it into a makeshift quesadilla. “Thanks. I’m glad you’re taking a day off. I’ll be around if you need me.” With breakfast in hand, he starts his own day of work. 

Curie walks in and grabs some breakfast too, yawning widely as she sits across the table from Julia. “Good morning, Julia. Oh, this food looks wonderful.” 

“Good morning, Curie. Did you sleep well?” 

“I slept better last night than I have all week,” she admits, leisurely eating. “I think I will greatly benefit from today’s activities.” She smiles and it does look better, easier. “Shall we begin?”

* * *

It’s a sunny day, so laundry is the first task on the list. Julia sometimes admits that not having machines to handle all of the work is tiresome, but also simpler. She can devote more time to relaxing tasks on days like this. 

She squeezes the water out of a handkerchief and hangs it to dry. The sun beats down on her back. Shaun is playing in between the neat lines of mutfruit plants behind them, singing a song under his breath. Julia rinses a pair of socks and wrings them out before clipping them onto the line. 

The homemade laundry soap is rough against her hands, her knuckles raw and red from the work, but it’s satisfying work, productive. In the corner of the courtyard sitting cross-legged on a bench, Curie meditates. Julia doesn’t know how Curie can just sit there for so long without moving, but the meditation seems to be working for her. 

Julia has her own form of meditation. When she finishes with the laundry, she dumps the bucket of dirty water into the grass. Then, she sits on the dirt at Curie’s feet with a wicker basket of sewing supplies and a pile of clothing to mend. Careful not to prick her fingers with the needle, she works. 

A pair of socks: darned. A rip in a pair of otherwise sturdy jeans: patched with a scrap of cheerful fabric. A button-down shirt is in need of some new buttons. A favorite dress has a tear in the underarm seam. A cozy wool cardigan is worn too thin in the elbows. A flannel shirt that has seen better days is set aside, to be cut up and made into a scarf or a new shirt for Shaun, whichever is more needed. In this world, not even the smallest scrap of fabric is wasted. 

She stretches, setting aside the needle and thread. This is easy work, but it’s important and satisfying, knowing that her clothing is going to last a long time. It must, as she can’t just run down to the second-hand store and buy some more. What she has is what she has. 

And she has a lot. Not just material possessions, but friends as well. A wealth of books now, like she’s a dragon with a hoard. 

“If you were a dragon,” she says aloud, “what would you hoard?” 

“Pardon?” Curie opens her eyes and uncrosses her legs, rubbing her knee. “What do you mean, if I was a dragon?” 

“For example,” Julia says, “if I was a dragon, I would have a hoard of books, probably. I also really like those novelty salt shakers that you can find sometimes. What would make you happy to have a ton of?”

“A strange question, but fascinating all the same. If I was a dragon…” She taps on her chin. “I found a hair comb with small pearls in it. It is gorgeous, and if I had many different other fancy hair accessories…” She nods decisively. “That, or many different colored glass beakers. When the sunlight comes through the one that I have, it looks to be a small rainbow.” She looks askance at Julia. “You are full of interesting questions, Julia.” 

* * *

“What is your favorite color?” Shaun asks.

“Another difficult question.” Curie doodles idly with a red crayon. “You are like your mother, Shaun. Always making poor Curie’s head spin with all of these strange questions!” 

Shaun is undeterred by this. He gives Julia a brown crayon to color her tree with. “My favorite color is purple, like Hubflowers and mutfruit. Mom, what is your favorite color?” 

“Thank you for asking, Shaun.” Julia fills in the branches of her tree. “That nice light green that the grass gets in summer. I like green in general, but I really like light green.” 

“Obviously.” There’s a trace of wit in Curie’s voice. “You are always wearing that dress.” 

Julia laughs and tugs at the collar of her freshly-laundered pale green dress. “That’s true. So what about you, Curie? Have you decided on a favorite color?” 

“Yes, I believe I have.” Curie sets down her crayon. She’s drawn something abstract, but it’s all clean somehow, with sharp lines and smooth loops. “There is a blue in a cloudy morning that is just a bit grey. It is a wonderful color, what I believe they used to call Cornflower.” 

“Like your eyes, Mom,” Shaun comments, half-paying attention. When he looks up, Julia notices that sort of dusky blue color in his eyes too. “It is a pretty color.” 

“Thank you, Shaun.” Julia blushes at the compliment. In the back of her head, she wonders if that’s why Curie picked the color. “Could you tell me about what you drew, please?” 

That’s not why Curie picked the color. It’s just her overactive imagination. 

* * *

After a hearty lunch, a courier arrives. 

“A letter for you, Sir,” she hands a letter to Preston, then rifles through her bag. “And one for Detective Valentine, if he’s here, yes here you go. And General Julia,” the courier sighs. “Oh boy do I have a whole lotta mail for you. A few packages too. Here.” 

The courier hadn’t exaggerated when she had said that there was “a whole lotta” mail. Julia gives the courier a bigger tip than normal and lugs the pile of mail back to her office. She starts with smaller letters. One from a settlement to the west that had been trying to contact the Minutemen, but had experienced problems doing so. Another settlement offering their alliance, another from a settlement requiring aid. She sets these letters aside for later. All of that business is coordinated from the Castle, not here. 

Familiar writing catches her eye, neat blocky letters. It’s a small letter, really more of a note, attached to a package just larger than her hand. 

> _ Julia, _
> 
> _ Received your letter. If you see Haylen, tell her I am safe and happier. Will travel with supply caravan to Bunker Hill in fourteen days. Enclosed is a book that I have read too many times. Please add it to the library collection. _
> 
> _ See you soon, _
> 
> _ Danse _

It’ll be good to see Danse again, especially once the Brotherhood stops looming over them. The book he had sent for the library was  _ The Old Man and the Sea  _ by Hemingway. A solid read, though easy to get sick of after years and years of re-reading it. Julia smiles and sets it aside in favor of a large package. This box is weather-worn and barely holding itself together. Who could this be from? 

When she reads the faded return label, she immediately starts tearing open the box. On top of a pile of a bunch of stuff is a letter. It’s heavy paper closed with a wax seal, which immediately confirms the identity of the sender. 

> _ Dearest Julia,  _
> 
> _ I hope this letter finds you safely. How has your library fared? I only wish that you may record a holodisk so that we may hear you play the piano. I dearly hope that it was not too out of tune. I have had many a fond memory sitting on the bench playing simple songs with my father centuries ago. I am most pleased that it has found a new life in your establishment. Edward says that I have written too long about the piano. Thus, I will describe our travels, of which you are surely anxious to hear about.  _
> 
> _ Emogene has fared well, finding the constant adventure exciting, and it has stopped her from getting into trouble (mostly). She says that she does not have much have of import to tell you, but that the Pennsylvania mountains were lovely, and the citizens of some small town north-west of Philadelphia had very interesting hairstyles imitating those mountains. She has included a small sketch. She also gripes about the ancient architecture, of a style she has never been fond of, though she has also included a sketch of a fascinating synagogue in the Mayan Revival style, a most charming structure.  _
> 
> _ Edward enjoyed New York, though I found it just as much of a distasteful sprawling mess as before the War. Some local organization has managed to secure Grand Central Station, and has turned it into a homely city, though it is a bit cramped. Edward managed to procure us tickets for a production on New Broadway, and we had a lovely evening of entertainment and local cuisine, of which there is a diverse array. Perhaps he has some taste after all. Edward has just crossly informed me that if I do not appreciate his taste in entertainment, I can have the responsibility of planning our next two outings.  _
> 
> _ As for me, I have been well. While New York was not to my liking, we are en route for Pittsburgh, and these mountain regions are refreshingly quiet. There is a certain peacefulness that exists even here, even now, after all of these years. It is the same degree of constancy that I believe you have also obtained with your library.  _
> 
> _ Speaking of peace, that damned Brotherhood is still here. We encountered an outpost coming south out of New York, and according to reputable rumors, we will have to bear another major post in Columbus. Such is the life of the wasteland, I suppose, but they are such rough types, and I do not appreciate their attitudes towards Edward. I must admit that it rankles me on a variety of levels, and I dread seeing their horribly-designed flag on the horizon, or hearing that incessant whine of their helicopters.  _
> 
> _ But enough about that. Please write a reply, as we are most anxious to hear progress of the library and of the valiant Minutemen’s efforts. Your group has been most helpful to us in our transition to wasteland life, and I do not wish for them to feel unappreciated. I hope to find you in good health and with even more success under your belt. You may find us in Pittsburgh at the beginning of September, or should your letter miss us, in Columbus within two weeks after that. I await your response.  _
> 
> _ Your dearest friends, _
> 
> _ Jack and Emogene Cabot, Edward Deegan _

Enclosed with the letter are a stack of pictures. There are a few sketch pages, presumably Emogene’s work, showing various fashions and hairstyles as well as architectural and natural wonders. Then there are endless pictures of them. Jack and Edward all dressed up in front of a theatre, Jack looking as elegant as the Victorian-born man he is, Edward just standing there. The trio in travelling clothes with the dilapidated Statue of Liberty in the background. A color photo of Jack fast asleep sitting up against a rock, the Pennsylvania mountains a dusky purple behind him. 

The rest of the package is jam-packed with souvenirs, many of them marked with small notes. A hefty stack of books take up the bottom of the box, many of them unique titles that Julia has never seen before.  _ Too heavy to take with us, thought you’d like them,  _ a small note reads, written in Edward’s stocky handwriting. A baseball cap that says “I <3 NY” with a note that says it’s for Shaun, a leatherbound journal for Piper, a holodisk that just has the word “music” scrawled on it for Preston, and much more: souvenir sweaters, a knotted rope bracelet, a box of saltwater taffy from New Jersey, an almost-new dress in a pale rose shade, a cable-knit hat, and it just keeps on going. 

Julia sits back from the box and smiles at the generosity. The Cabots are probably used to buying gifts for their social circle, and right now she  _ is  _ their entire social circle. She sets aside the box in favor of a couple more letters and smaller packages. 

This package is from Magnolia in Goodneighbor. A small note is enclosed:

> _ Hope you enjoy! I never really learned formal composition, so my notation may be awkward. Feel free to try them out and tell me what you think, and these are only drafts, so you have my permission to make edits as necessary.  _

A bundle of handwritten sheet music is included, tied together with a ribbon. Julia grins and sets that aside too, to be played later. Since recordings of Magnolia singing are rare and expensive to make, the best way for her legacy to be passed down would be by noting down her songs. And Julia’s no expert at songwriting, but she can catch any obvious errors or awkward arranging. 

The next package is from Goodneighbor as well, though this one is unexpected. 

> _ Julia, _
> 
> _ Somebody mentioned something about you having folks write books, so I thought I’d try my hand at it. Don’t know how well I did, feel free to just tell me to fuck off, but your library is lacking in good gay shit. Oh, and don’t open this manuscript in front of young Shaun.  _
> 
> _ Hancock _

Julia sighs and tears open the packaging, revealing a decently-sized stack of paper. After a quick trip to the library kitchen for a cup of tea, she settles back to read, albeit reluctantly. Curie joins her, pulling up a chair and poking through Preston’s manuscript. 

The rough book is not the best she’s ever read, but she has to admit that it’s not bad. In fact, a good chunk of it is genuinely enjoyable, and whatever parts don’t match the quality of the whole can be easily fixed with a bit of editing and revision. Hancock has a tendency to repeat himself and ramble, but his more explicit scenes are surprisingly heartfelt and decently written. The main story is compelling too: a Brotherhood Knight and a civilian doctor fall in love, but the civilian turns into a ghoul after an accident. Julia can already see the blurb for the back of the book: “Will these two be able to reconcile their love, or will this crisis tear them apart?” It’s relevant, the plot is clear, and the romance is believable. 

She rubs her eyes and picks up a pen to reply to Hancock:

> _ Much as I hate to admit it, your book has potential. I will suggest edits on your draft and return it to you within the week. Just write me two more with women, and another one with men, and we can turn it into a volume series.  _
> 
> _ Sincerely, your friend who hates that you have made her read this with her own two eyes, _
> 
> _ Julia.  _

* * *

“Good job,” she praises. “Watch the curve of your fingers, but other than than you’ve really picked up on the first variation quickly.”

“Thanks, Blue. I’ve been practicing whenever I have down time.” Piper smiles at her. “The other variations look pretty difficult, but I think I can learn the fourth one next. I’m glad you’ve taught me.”

Julia nudges her to scoot over on the bench. “Thanks for putting up with my teaching. Here, let me play you something I just got in the mail. It might be a little rough, though.” 

She pulls out Magnolia’s notation of  _ Baby It’s Just You  _ and sight-reads it best as she can, wincing at her frequent stumbles. But by the time the third chorus comes around, it’s smoother and recognizable as the song. 

Someone starts humming the tune behind her. Julia half-turns and sees Curie standing behind them, her hair shorter and neatly trimmed. Behind her, Preston pokes his head out of the hallway. 

“I’m going to have that song stuck in my head for days,” he complains. 

She sticks her tongue out at him, then breaks into a chuckle. He laughs too, ducking back into the hallway. Finally, she wraps up the song and plays another one, this time a jaunty popular tune from back in the day. Then, another classical piece, then one of her favorites after that, and on and on until dusk falls upon the library.

The perfect day. It’s been a truly wonderful day, and she can tell that Curie has benefited from it as much as she has. She feels ready to face whatever may come ahead, no matter how difficult it will be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes, my favorite kind of chapters, the "interludes" that end up longer than normal chapters. Blame Jack Cabot and his over 500-word letter, inspired by @chibikinesis' Mojave AU fics. Also, Jack is just too fun to write.  
> Preston eats eggs like I do, because I don't like them alone, so I always stick them in a tortilla or something. 
> 
> Depending on how life goes, I might not have an update for this Wednesday, so it might be a week until the next update! Long story short I just got a new job that is going to require quite a bit of adjustment time!


	11. Preston (again)

“If you can’t see the floor,” Nick advises, watching as Preston and Julia check their equipment, “then avoid that spot. It might be more rotted or unstable there.” 

“And do that weird bear-crawl thing if you run into a spot you can’t get back across,” Piper adds from her chair on the courtyard stones. Her foot is propped up on another chair. It was on the mend, but not good enough for her to join them on their excursion to the upstairs of the library.

“Thanks.” Preston clicks his headlamp on and off. He nods to Julia. “Are you good to go?” 

She nods and leans down to give Piper a kiss. “I’m ready.” She straightens and gives Curie a hug. 

“Please take care, Julia,” Curie whispers. “Remember to use your respirator mask.” 

“I will,” she promises, then slips the mask over her nose and mouth. Curie had suggested that all of the dust of the downstairs may have aggravated her condition from the molerat disease, turning a minor flare-up into a serious one. 

Preston leads the way up the ladder through the window of the second floor. It’s a makeshift but sturdy contraption. Once he gets up to the top, he swings his left leg over the sill and tests the floor before dropping down into the room. He gives her a thumbs-up, and she follows, her boots making little noise on the metal rungs. 

Once Julia drops into the dark room next to Preston, he pulls out a small hand-held radio hooked onto his belt. “Testing, this is Preston and Julia. Over.” 

Nick’s voice crackles from the other side. “We read you. Over and out.” 

With all preparations taken care of, they start exploring. Julia plays a role as cartographer today, instead of having a third person who might take up space in the cramped and rotting corridors of this floor. They carefully pick their way out of this room, which seems to be a storage room. Julia has to pick the lock to get out, but it’s a relatively easy one, and the door pops open soon enough. The hinges squeal, but it opens. 

“Left or right?” Preston whispers, his voice muffled behind his own, lighter, face mask. 

Julia shines her light down first one side, then another. “Left. That’s towards the main hall, so it might be a little more well-preserved compared to the collapsed side.” 

They skirt the center of the hallway, which seems to be sagging slightly, and duck into a smallish room. It appears to be a storage room with some book repair materials inside. A lucky find, even if it wasn’t exactly what they were looking for. A room across the hall appears to be an old janitor’s closet, the plastic bottles of chemicals warped and empty. 

Then come the book rooms. Reading rooms with a few stacks of materials, and areas packed full with shelves. The books are not in great condition, having weathered more of the elements than the ones downstairs, but Julia estimates that half of them are completely unreadable, and of the remaining half, there were few that would not require repair. 

“I’m glad you had this idea,” Preston says as they pick their way down the hallway to a pair of rooms down at the end. 

Julia gives him a look. “It wasn’t my idea to come up here, Preston. We all wanted to.”

“No, not that.” He waves a hand. “The idea for the library. I’m glad you decided to do it. I never would have thought that we could do it. I’m glad you had more faith in us.” 

She chuckles. “Well, what you’re saying right now is just about how I was feeling when this all started. It’s hard to get new things going nowadays, but at least…” She trails off as they enter a room with a projector in the middle and record player booths on the walls. A media room, stocked with intact holotapes and mostly warped vinyl records. The record players seem broken, but the projector looks to be in good condition. 

“At least what?” Preston asks as they continue down the hallway. There’s just one more room up here, then they have to turn back and go the other way down the hallway. 

“At least…” Julia steps on a floorboard that gives way, and she quickly moves her foot to more solid ground. “I grew up in Rhode Island. I wanted to be a librarian when I grew up. But the Public Library in Providence closed when I was fourteen. It was a lovely building, much like this one. The Army used it as a base and recruiting center. Then when I was in Philadelphia for grad school, the public library there became a...detainment center, before it was burnt down by protesters. And that’s just two sad stories out of hundreds. Being a librarian just wasn’t practical in that world.” 

“Oh.” Preston checks the floor of the doorway they’re flanking. “At least you get to be a librarian now.” 

“And all it took was the world ending,” Julia quips. Her eyes widen as she peeks into the room.“Oh. Preston.” 

The room they’ve entered has a skeleton in the center, but it’s not made of bone. A plastic replica for studying human anatomy, it dangles from a rusted metal stand. The room is packed floor-to-ceiling with books, and there are a few low shelves in the middle of the room with holodisks and larger diagrams. The diagrams have mostly faded, but they’ve gotten lucky with the books: the ceiling is intact, the bookshelves sturdy, and the majority of the books are in passable condition. 

“Check in,” Nick’s voice crackles in from the radio. Their scheduled ten minute check-in. 

“We hear you.” There’s a rare note of excitement in Preston’s voice. “All clear up here. On the left side we found a media room with a projector, and a medical room that seems to have intact books. Will report back in ten minutes again as planned. Over and out.” 

Now to backtrack to where they entered, and go down the right side. Now they have a better idea of how to discern unstable floor portions. 

“What did you want to be when you grew up?” 

Preston faintly smiles. “A Minuteman, of course. But I guess other than that, a radio operator. And not - not like I do sometimes now,” he says, chuckling, “but more like Diamond City’s radio station. But now I think I’d just clam up and get stage fright if I tried. Relaying supply orders and strategic plans is one thing, but trying to entertain people is another entirely.” 

They explore three reading rooms in a row, in various conditions. The dust in the air is getting thicker as they get closer to the collapsed section. They poke through shelves and mutter warnings about the floor to each other. 

“So, you and Piper, huh?” 

Julia blushes despite herself. “Yeah.” She doesn’t know what else to say. 

“Good. I’m glad you two are happy together. Piper has a good heart.” 

The conversation is dropped for a moment as they enter the last room in this hall before the collapsed stairs blocks the rest off. 

One thing about the wasteland that Julia’s never really become accustomed to is the constant presence of skeletons. They’re not everywhere, of course, but most abandoned buildings have at least one. 

There are at least thirty skeletons in here. All of them, save for two near the door, are very small. The peeled and cracking wallpaper is a faded green that used to be bright, and there are tiny chairs and short tables shaped like leaves and stumps. The room is lined with shelves, though one of the walls is half-collapsed. 

The children’s room. 

“They must have been on a field trip,” Julia muses, her voice faint. There’s a part of her that’s glad that she’s not used to this. Spearheading an organization like the Minutemen, she can’t afford to become cold and callous. 

Preston swallows hard and shines his light around the room. “I think we’re good here. Let’s head back.” 

The rest of their friends, after they’ve worked their way back down to the courtyard, greet them enthusiastically. Julia hands her rough map over to Nick, who is unofficially in charge of book retrieval. She strips off her respirator mask and the kerchief covering her hair before taking a deep breath of the fresh courtyard air.

“Ah, Julia!” Curie boldly grabs her arm. “If you wish, while I have been braiding the fine Madame Piper’s hair, I have decided upon something that I wish to test. Would you have the honor of being my first test subject?” 

“Yes, I suppose.” Julia, after kissing Piper, follows Curie to her lab. “What would this test of yours entail?” 

“Nothing very invasive, I promise. I have rigorously tested it in the laboratory, and it is safe for humans. But without practical trials, I am unsure if it will work. Here, please sit down.” 

Julia sits on a stool, feeling very dusty and dirty in Curie’s pristine lab. How does she manage to keep it so clean in here? “Alright. Go ahead.” 

“Wonderful! Please wait a moment while I prepare the solution.” Curie pulls something out of a small container and mixes it with some other things with a mortar and pestle. “Are you injured in any way?” 

She rolls up her jeans. “Yes, I have a small cut on my ankle, and probably some scrapes on my arms too.”

Curie turns back to her with a murky brown liquid in the mortar and a clean cloth. “That will suffice for my experiment.” She kneels in front of Julia and busies herself wetting the cloth with a water bottle. She cleans the cut first. 

This is doing something funny to Julia’s heart, and it’s not because of the molerat disease. Curie is gentle and confident, and there’s something intimate about the way she’s cradling Julia’s ankle in her hand, about the sharp concentration she takes to clean the wound. She feels like the world has made her all topsy-turvy lately. First Piper mere days ago, now this sort of sentiment for Curie. Was she simply mixing the two up?

“And now for the solution,” Curie murmurs, breaking her train of thought. She dabs some of the liquid onto the cut, and waits with her eyes inches from it. 

Slowly, the wound stops bleeding, then before Julia’s eyes, the flesh starts to knit itself together. She’s seen this before, of course. But only when using Stimpacks. And it’s slower right now, but it’s still happening. 

“Wow!” She exclaims, bending to touch the newly healed skin. “What was in that stuff?” 

Curie stands and pulls Julia up from the chair, hugging her tightly. “Oh, it has worked! I never thought I would figure the problem out!” She releases Julia from the hug but stays close, and she’s so  _ short  _ and  _ cute  _ and there’s nothing Julia wants more in this moment than to kiss her. “A combination of a lab-grown strain of mutfruit and some other common ingredients to boost the effect. I can begin crafting new Stimpacks with it as soon as possible, maybe even today! It will make them so very effective, and I only have you to thank for encouraging me in my research.” She grins up at Julia, and there’s something wonderful about seeing Curie smile like that. “I owe you so much, Julia. Thank you for always being there for me. Your friendship helped me persevere, even when I thought I’d never make progress.” 

_ Friendship, friendship, friendship,  _ Julia’s treacherous mind is repeating.  _ Is that what we are, friends? Is that what we want to be? Could we ever be more than that? _

“That’s incredible,” she says instead. “I’m so proud of what you’ve done. I’m just,” she’s grinning too, breathless, “I’m so happy for you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so update schedule did get a little messed up, and yeahhh it has been two weeks since the last update?? Okay so heads up new chapters are probably going to come along every week instead of twice a week from now on, because I have a lot of pots on the fire. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	12. Preston (I know, again)

“I’m not sure about this,” Preston says, looking nervous as Julia rolls out a large piece of drafting paper she found in the map room downstairs. “We might be overreaching. We’ll need more people to guard the perimeter, not to even mention the construction.” 

“I know.” Julia holds down the corners of the paper with a rock, an empty mug, a paperweight shaped like the Statue of Liberty, and the corner of a lamp. “But you know as much as I do that we need the room, badly. People are stacked like sardines in our living quarters, and we can’t afford to take out that space for book storage, but our main repair room is full to bursting with stuff. If we don’t expand, we’re going to have a serious problem on our hands.” 

Preston sits on one side of the paper. This is the first planning session, so it’s just the two of them. They’ll get more people’s ideas later, but that would be too overwhelming at this early stage. “Were you thinking of building extensions or clearing out an existing neighboring place?” 

That’s a hard question, one that they need to get out of the way right now. “I don’t know. Which do you think would be better?” 

“I’m not sure either.” Preston frowns. “Maybe a combination of the two? We use an existing building but connect it to the library square, and have outbuildings lining the connection?” 

Julia draws a quick sketch of the library from an overhead view. “Well, we have Diamond City on our West side, so there’s not much room for expansion there. We’re already using the old police station as a guard checkpoint and armaments station, and the buildings on either side of it aren’t in great shape. I’d be reluctant to rely on them.”

“Agreed. What about to the North or South of the library? Some of the buildings there look viable.”

She marks a rough outline of those sections. “Maybe. I was also considering the Trinity Church, but it might be too close to Trinity Tower for comfort, and I haven’t really checked out the building besides clearing it out.” 

“We should check it out,” Preston suggests. “And I’m not too worried about Trinity Tower. Those supermutants didn’t seem to be in a hurry to return there. How about we do a quick survey of the church right now? We’ve got time.” 

Julia nods and grabs her trusty baseball bat. “Let’s go, then.” 

* * *

“We’ll be fine!” She says over her shoulder at Curie, who is waiting at the gate, frowning. “We’ll just yell if something goes wrong. We already cleared it out, anyways.” 

“Be careful!” Curie calls back. 

They’re too far away to speak without yelling, so Julia waves in reply. She jogs to catch up with Preston. 

“She worries about you a lot,” he comments. 

Julia shrugs. “I guess.” 

Preston looks over and frowns. “Is there something going on with you two?”

“What makes you say that?” 

It’s his turn to shrug. “I don’t know. You seem kind of tense around her now.” 

“It’s nothing,” Julia snaps, then pinches the bridge of her nose. “Sorry. I’m just not sure myself, and there’s nothing I hate more than not knowing.” 

Preston smiles and looks back at her in the shadow of the overhang of the massive church. “You’ll figure it out.” He pushes open the red front door and leads them inside. The conversation is dropped for the moment as they poke in the lobby, side room, and bathrooms. Julia takes note of the mostly intact ceiling. 

The main room has not fared so well, however. The ceiling is full of holes and the center of the room has collapsed. They pick their way across the massive room to the pulpit. As Julia stands facing this ruin, the emptiness starts to take a hold of her, the ceiling rising higher and higher. 

“I love Curie,” she blurts.

Preston, leaning over the edge of the broken floor looking down at the basement below, puts his foot down too hard on a broken piece of wood. He yelps in surprise and windmills his arms, teetering before Julia grabs him and hauls him back from the edge. 

“Why couldn’t you have said that while we were on solid ground?” He accuses, getting his breath back. “You scared me half to death!” 

“Sorry.” Julia rubs her neck, sheepish. “That was bad timing, now that I think about it.” 

He wipes his forehead. “Let’s just keep going. I want to look at some of the nooks downstairs.” On the stairs, presumably so they don’t have to have this talk while looking at each other, Preston picks up the conversation. “So you said that you love Curie?” 

“Yeah. I think I do. But I love Piper too. And I don’t know what to do, or if I should even do anything at all.” Julia sighs. “I just don’t know.” 

Preston doesn’t say anything to that for a few minutes. He silently points out a few spots that seem sturdy and able to be used, but other than that he keeps a thoughtful silence. After scouting the bottom floor, they head back upstairs, then even further up to the balcony. 

“Sit with me,” Preston says, indicating an intact bench on the gallery overlooking the church. The mid-morning sun is streaming through the gaps in the ceiling. The light is refracted and twisted by the stained glass windows, painting the rotted wood and crumbling pews a rainbow of colors. 

Julia sits, staring at her feet. Now that she’s confessed her feelings to someone, anyone, it feels treacherous and wrong. What is she thinking, getting such a strong crush on another woman the second she finally gets something wonderful with Piper? She’s so stupid-

“I don’t think what you feel is terrible, or bad, or whatever you think,” Preston starts. 

“Didn’t know you could read minds, Preston.” Julia huffs out a laugh that’s half a sigh. 

His face falls at the confession that she’s upset about it. Julia’s long since learned that Preston is a very empathetic person, and can read emotional changes in a room like a barometer. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. You can’t control how you feel, and you’re not cheating on Piper or whatever you think.” He scoots closer to her on the pew and puts a friendly arm around her. “Some people go through their whole lives loving only one person, and some people don’t find anyone at all, and some people,” he squeezes her shoulder, “have an incredible capacity for love. Your heart is in many places, and that’s not a bad thing. Did you have relationships back in your time where more than two people were involved?” 

She shakes her head. “Not openly. Down the street we had some neighbors, a married couple and another man, their old “army friend”. The wife told me one day, in private, that her husband and the other man were in as serious of a relationship as marriage.” Now that she remembers this (at the time) odd relationship, she gains steam. “I thought for sure that she would hate Rob for stealing her husband away or seducing him or whatever, but she didn’t. She said he was cool and that he was a good cook and a close friend. What surprised me the most was that she and her husband were as close as ever.” She swallows hard. “They made it to the entrance of the Vault, but Rob wasn’t officially related to either of them, so he wasn’t registered. Not that it mattered in the end, because like hell they were going to leave him behind. Last I saw them was going back into their house together.”

“There you go. And were they unhappy in that relationship?” 

“No. They were happier than any other group of people I knew.” She wipes her eyes, from emotional overload and not from nostalgia. Besides clean water and the lack of irradiated beasts, there’s little else to be nostalgic about. “Things are different now, aren’t they? People wouldn’t accuse me of being greedy or wouldn’t heckle Piper for not being enough for me?” 

“Things  _ are  _ different. So much is going wrong in the world, personal relationships aren’t so heavily policed or scrutinized. People would not think less of you. Here’s my advice: don’t let this stew inside of you for too long. Take all of the time you need to process it, of course, but if you wait hoping that it will go away, it will only make problems between you and Piper, and maybe even Curie too.”

Julia turns to look at Preston, her eyebrows raised. “You’re saying I need to  _ talk  _ to them about it? Just say to Piper, ‘oh yeah I love someone else too, is that cool with you?’ Confess to Curie? Have you gone off the deep end, Preston?” 

Instead of getting frustrated with her, Preston heartily laughs. What has she done to deserve a friend like him? “Maybe not so abruptly, but yes. That is what I’m saying. Piece together your thoughts, then get them out there, probably with Piper first. What’s the worst that could happen?” 

“Piper breaks up with me.” 

He waves a hand. “Nonsense. The worst that could happen is that she’s not okay with it, but that you talk it through and she sees that you’re coming from a place of genuine honesty and a desire to bare your soul to her, and she’ll respect you the more for it. The best case scenario, she’s totally cool with it.” 

“That’s a big risk.” 

“Everything’s risky these days,” Preston says. “Just think about it.”

“Thanks for talking this over with me,” Julia says. “I probably would go see a therapist about it, but I don’t think those really exist anymore. I didn’t mean to dump my problems on you.”

He chuckles and stands, pulling her up too. “Don’t worry about it. You helped me out of the lowest time in my life, and you listened to me spout off all of  _ my  _ problems. It’s a two-way street. That’s what friends do.” He turns to the echoey empty church. “Now, speaking of risk, what do you think about this building? I think it’s our best shot, but it’s going to take a lot of work.” 

“Everything takes work these days,” Julia echoes with a grin. “I think it’s a great idea. Let’s talk it over with everyone else. But for now, let’s just get out of here. There’s no time to waste.”


	13. Julia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight warning for fire-related injury from someone being on fire.

“If I can offer a suggestion,” Valentine says, his robotic hand tapping against the desk. “We should set up turrets in the east windows and one or two up on the balcony, in case raiders think they can sneak in through that way.” 

Julia takes a pen with blue ink and marks two small X marks near the back windows of the church, then two more on a separate balcony diagram. “Good idea. Piper, Curie, Hancock, any ideas?” 

Hancock is leaning lazily back in a chair, having been forbidden from putting his feet up on Julia’s desk. They’re all cramped in this small office as it is, no need to stretch out and take up too much space. He yawns. “You folks are doin’ a better job plannin’ this thing that any other settlement I’ve ever seen,” he comments. “I’m just over here takin’ notes.” 

“What about natural light?” Curie asks, piping up from her spot next to Hancock. “If you plan to cover up the hole in the floor, I am concerned about having enough light downstairs in the central living area.” 

“How much natural light do we need?” Piper challenges. “We’re not growing crops in there. Electricity should do fine.” 

At Julia’s left side, Shaun shifts like he wants to say something. He’d insisted upon being a part of the meeting, noting with uncharacteristic logic (for a child of his age) that the new living area needed to be good for kids too. Mostly, he’d sat and listened. Julia nudges him to speak. 

“Without the sun coming in,” he says, blushing as everyone in the room turns to look at him. He regains his confidence and continues. “If there is no sun, even with the electricity, it will be…” he sticks his tongue out. “Sad. Dark.” 

“True,” Piper says, putting her chin on her hand. “We take all of the natural light here in the library for granted, with all of the windows we have. But there’s still the problem of covering up that hole so rain doesn’t come in.” 

The group brainstorms many different solutions, but one seems the most feasible: screening off the hole in the floor and building a canopy higher up so sun can come in through the many windows, but rain won’t leak in. It’s not a perfect solution, but the group meeting breaks for the day, with everyone deciding to see if they can figure something better out later. 

“When will Preston be back from the Castle?” Nick asks as Julia rolls up the diagram of the church. 

“He’s got a lot to take care of, so at least a week,” she says. “He’s been handling as much as he can from here, but there’s so much coordination that has to be done from the Castle. Then he’s thinking about waiting for Danse to get there in a week, to see if Danse wants to officially work for the Minutemen.” Julia sighs. “After that, he’s coordinating making a safer and clearer route from here to the Castle, maybe with guard stations along the way. It’s a lot, so he’ll probably be two weeks.” 

“Well, I know it’s important work, but it’ll be good to have him back,” Nick comments. 

“Yes it is. Ah, Piper!” Julia makes a very impulsive decision, calling the other woman back from the door. “Could you - do you mind waiting for a second?” 

Piper gives her a smile. “Yeah, sure. See ya, Nick. I’ll be around to help with the ledger in a few minutes.” 

This leaves them alone in Julia’s office. Julia’s throat is abruptly dry. She reaches out and closes the door, then sits back down again. But Piper isn’t sitting, so she stands. Would it be awkward if they’re standing up during this conversation-

“You’re freaking out, Blue.” Piper takes her hands and leads her to a spare chair. She sits too. “What’s going on?”

“I need to talk to you about something.” The words come out in a rush. It’s too hot in here. Julia tears off the kerchief over her hair and wrings it in her hands. Looking at Piper is a little scary right now, so she fixes her eyes on her knees. “I love you, Piper.” 

Piper reaches out and rubs Julia’s knee. “Okay, thanks, but now you’re kinda freaking me out too. What has you all worked up? Is something wrong-”

“I love Curie too.” 

There’s a stunned silence before Piper sputters, confused, “what?”

“Just hear me out, please,” Julia begs. It feels like a great weight is pressing down on her head and shoulders and chest. “I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t even know at first that I felt that way, but there’s nothing I wanted less than to deceive you, or keep secrets from you. Because whatever happens or doesn’t happen, no matter what I feel, you’re what matters most to me.” Julia squeezes her eyes shut, feeling tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. “I wouldn’t want to do anything to ever ruin what we have. But…”

“But…” 

“But I can’t deny how I feel. And I didn’t want this to fester and become a problem. I haven’t talked to Curie about this.” 

Piper takes her hand off Julia’s knee. “I - I don’t know what to say, Blue. I don’t,” there’s a rustling like she’s running her hand through her hair, “I don’t know. I’m not mad at you, but i just don’t know what to think. This is unexpected.” She sighs. “Let me think about it? Yeah, give me a day or two to think it over.” 

“I’m sorry,” Julia says, sniffling and keeping her head down. 

The door closes. Piper has left.

* * *

Two days pass before Piper corners Julia in her office. “I’m still thinking about it,” she says, avoiding looking at Julia, making up for the whole two days of staring at her when she thinks Julia’s not looking. Staring thoughtfully at Julia, watching Curie too. “But I think you should talk to Curie. The sooner the better.” 

“Talk to her, right now?” Julia confirms, her stomach doing knots at the thought. “Confess to her how I feel?” At Piper’s nod, she sees a small snag in that idea. “And what do I tell her when she asks how you feel about that?” 

“Tell her,” Piper pauses, “tell her that I’m thinking about it. And that I’m seriously considering the possibility that we could do...something. Come up with a solution that makes everyone happy.” 

Even that makes Julia’s heart soar, with both hope and nervousness. 

* * *

It takes another day for Julia to find the right moment. 

“I plan on sending the final document to the kind Doctor Duff when I have finished,” Curie says, showing Julia her progress on writing up the report of her research. Though it is interesting, Julia is barely listening. “If you don’t mind, I have dedicated the report to you.” 

The dedications page says:  _ To my dearest friend, Julia, who made me a better person and endlessly encouraged me. Without her, none of this would have been possible.  _

“Is that what we are, friends?” Julia blurts without thinking. She meets Curie’s startled eyes. “I didn’t mean - I didn’t mean to bring this up out of nowhere, but have you ever had feelings, no that’s not the right way to ask.” She takes a deep breath and takes Curie’s hands, feeling herself tiptoe closer to the edge of panic. “I have feelings for you, Curie.” 

Curie is staring wide-eyed at her. “Julia?” She says, voice faint. “What are you talking about? I - please explain.” 

“I love you.” 

“But Piper-”

“I love her too. I wasn’t sure at first, but I love you too. And if you don’t feel the same, I understand, and we can just pretend like this never happened-”

“I never said that I have never __ felt something more than friendship for you,” Curie admits. “I was confused myself, but I am still confused about - you are unavailable to me.” 

The tension in Julia’s chest is easing, but now her head is pounding from the stress of this conversation. “Maybe not. I talked to Piper about this. She said she’s still thinking about it, but that there might be a possibility that we could...work things out.” 

Curie stares at her, then eases her hands out of Julia’s grasp. Without a word, she turns on her heel and runs out of the room. 

“Blue? Julia?” Piper finds her a minute later. “I saw Curie, she looked upset - oh.” She wraps Julia up in a hug. “You talked to her, didn’t you?” 

A hug is exactly what Julia needs right now. She wraps her arms around Piper and holds on tight, nodding into Piper’s shoulder. They stay like that forever, until Piper’s grasp weakens and she pulls Julia into a kiss instead. 

This is what she has. This is what she will always have, no matter what goes wrong. 

* * *

Dusk has fallen, and most patrons have left the library. The regulars, the ones who live there, have almost all tucked themselves away in the living quarters, with the exception of the guards. 

Officially, the library is closed. Julia shivers, only wearing a t-shirt tucked into an old faded skirt. As she walks, she shuts off the lights. 

First, the archive room, the cool air blowing in from the courtyard moist and smelling like the rich dirt. Then, down the hallway past the living quarters, leaving the lights on. People are talking and laughing behind closed doors, but the noise is settling down as everyone goes to sleep. Next she clears the hallway and shuts off the lights in the entrance room, giving the front desk an affectionate pat. 

The main hall is immense and hauntingly tall at this hour. Julia puts some books left out onto the re-shelf cart, then makes sure their brand-new children’s area, with its small chairs and cushions and separate bookshelves, is tidy. With all night preparations done, she stands in the middle of the room and looks up at the ceiling, watching the rising moon cast a deep shadow on the walls. 

The library is quiet. Peaceful. Exactly what a library should be. A refuge, a place to ground oneself. 

It’s at this moment that the raiders attack.

There’s a flash of light, then the sound of an explosion. The never-used siren starts to wail. Outside, guards shout and open fire, the sharp sound of bullets ricocheting everywhere. In the back of the library, people start running for the entrance, presumably with guns to help defend. 

This is not a good spot to be. Julia turns for the entry room, already mentally reviewing the location of her power armor and weapons. 

Glass shatters in a hail of bullets. Julia flinches and raises her arms, crouching behind a bookcase. The wind, no longer held out by the windows, whips around Julia’s hair, ripping the kerchief from her head and sending loose pieces of paper scattering across the floor. Gunfire rumbles the floor outside. 

She needs to get outside. She needs to help. On her feet, she sprints for the other end of the hall towards the main entrance.

A flash of light, something arcing through the window. A Molotov. 

It’s going to burn down the entire library, destroy everything she’s worked so hard to build. The piano. Kent’s comics. The furniture. The  _ books. _

“No!” Julia screams, knowing the consequences of her plan and choosing to ignore them. She jumps and dives like a runner desperately reaching for Home Plate. Her hands close around the bottle, her fingertips slipping for a second before firmly tightening. 

Outside, a shout, too late: “Molotov!”

It’s hot in her hands, the burning rag striking her wrist. Julia mixes up her sports and tucks it close like a football as she hits the floor. It explodes in her hands. 

Fire, there’s fire. Panic sets in. It’s going to spread, it’s going to burn down the building with this wind. Flames eat up the hem of her skirt and the hair on her arms.  _ She’s  _ on fire.  _ She’s on fire, on fire, on fire- _

Stop. Julia takes a second to breathe. Think through the pain. Don’t panic.  _ Don’t panic- _

Drop. She’s already on the floor. The fire is mostly contained in the space underneath her body. Her idea to catch the Molotov and cuddle it had worked.

Roll. Closing her eyes and holding her breath, Julia rolls back and forth, the tiles scraping her elbows, broken glass stinging the sensitive inside skin of her calves. That’s just the pain she chooses to focus on; her exposed skin hurts like she’s hitting her skin with red-hot iron. 

“Fire!” Someone yells, high and panicked. Piper. Then, a surprised gasp. “Julia!” 

Time to open her eyes. The fire on her is out, but small flames still lick at stray pieces of paper. Julia tamps out the fire with her bare hands, internally screaming. Any one ember that makes it to a bookcase could create a disaster. She stands, fuelled by adrenaline, and stomps all of the fire she sees. 

There. Stomp. Another one dangerously close to a table. Stomp, stomp. She’s starting to get dizzy.

“Julia!” Piper drags her away from the fire. “We’ll take it from here, now come on!” 

She stumbles in Piper’s grasp. Now that adrenaline has given up the reins, she’s starting to feel light-headed. “Need to fight-” she starts to protest, but starts coughing instead. There wasn’t much smoke from the Molotov, but she’d probably inhaled all of it. 

“Curie! Curie, we need help!” Piper pulls her into the entry room, the battle still raging on outside. She carefully guides Julia to lie down on the ground, balling up her soft red coat to put under her head. “Curie!” 

Rounding the corner at a sprint, Curie skids to her knees at Julia’s side and dumps a doctor’s bag on the ground. “Breathe,” she breathlessly instructs. “What happened?” There’s no trace of nervousness when she runs her fingers over Julia’s burned skin, just urgency and an intense worry in her eyes. 

She presses down too hard on one particularly red spot, and Julia finds herself unable to answer, back arching as she grits her teeth to hold back a scream. Now that oxygen has hit her wounds, the pain has tripled. 

In the low light, Piper looks pale. “A Molotov - she jumped on it-” She takes a deep breath and looks Curie in the eyes. “What do you need me to do?” 

Curie stares back. “Water. Cool water and a cloth. Stimpacks will only do so much.” 

“Done.” Piper scrambles to her feet and down the hall. Outside, the gunfire becomes quieter. 

Under the sound, Curie whispers something. 

“What?” Julia winces. Moving is apparently not the best idea when you’re all burnt up. 

Curie lowers her eyes and pushes back Julia’s bangs from her sweaty face. “I love you,” she says. Even though her face is down, Julia can see tears welling up in her milky blue eyes. “I love you, Julia,” she repeats, “and when I saw you injured just now, I thought that perhaps I would never get the chance to tell you that when you confessed to me, I was so terribly frightened of my own emotions. I wanted to have a second chance to tell you that I feel the same way.” 

For a moment, Julia is speechless. Then she lifts an aching arm to pull Curie down for a kiss. Compared to everything else right now, it feels wonderful, because it doesn’t hurt. She’s half-worried that Curie will suddenly change her mind and flinch away, but Curie leans into the kiss before breaking it. 

“I must heal you,” she says. “Oh dear, you are in a lot of pain.” 

A movement from the doorway draws their attention. Piper is standing there and probably has been for a few seconds, judging by the way she’s gently smiling at them. 

“We’ll talk about this later,” she says, patting Curie on the shoulder as she passes to kneel at Julia’s other side. She sets down a bucket of water and a clean cloth. “But for now, I think we need to heal our girl.” 

_ Our  _ girl. Even though she is definitely still in pain, Julia smiles, giddy with happiness and maybe a little bit of shock. 

“I agree.” Curie gets to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you ever have a scene in a fic that is written many months and chapters in advance? That was the Molotov scene (the first part, at least, since I wasn't sure when it was going to take place) for me. I've probably had it written since chapter three or four? And yet here we are all the way in Chapter 13...
> 
> Next chapter is an epilogue/closing chapter!
> 
> EDIT: I drew art for this chapter! Find it on Tumblr [here](https://owlaholic68.tumblr.com/post/176405874364/a-flash-of-light-something-arcing-through-the).


	14. Epilogue

“Stop that,” Julia tersely says, half-heartedly glaring at Danse who has been hovering at her shoulder for the last five minutes. “I’m fine, Curie told me I could get up and walk around.”

“If you say so.” He still stays close, apparently ready to catch her should she suddenly faint. “As I was saying, the basement is almost ready to go, and we’ll be putting in the turrets tomorrow morning. We should be able to start moving everything over in three days.” 

Her legs are starting to ache, though Julia would never admit it. She leans back against a pillar. “And how are you doing, Danse?” He’d arrived two days ago after, from what she’d heard, having a lengthy meeting with Preston. “Preston had you come here instead of staying at the Castle?” 

Danse is not fooled by her nonchalant leaning, and gestures for them to return to the library. “Yes. I must admit that it was partially from curiosity, partially to try something new. I have never had a proper chance to explore other career possibilities beyond being a soldier.” 

“So now you’re a carpenter.” 

He shrugs. “We’ll see. So far, it’s going well.” 

“That’s good to hear.” Julia gives him a smile that turns into a pout when he tries to take her arm to help her down the stairs. “I’m not that fragile, Danse.” 

“Still, when we heard that you were injured, it sounded serious. If Preston wasn’t knee-deep in work-”

“As he usually is-”

“-he was ready to run over here himself.” Danse fixes her with a disapproving look. “You  _ jumped  _ on a Molotov, Julia. That’s not exactly a safe scenario. Add to that the news that you’ve apparently contracted some sort of disease-”

“You’ve been talking to Curie too much, haven’t you?” Julia gives Nick, manning the front desk, a wave as she leads them into the main hall. “I told you, I’m fine. I’m on the mend.” 

He gently pats her shoulder. “Still, people seem to enjoy worrying about you, me not excluded. I’m still...working on that. On all of that.” He squares his shoulders. “Still, everyone here has been surprisingly supportive. It is refreshing.” 

Julia gives him a sideways hug. “That’s good to hear. Now come on, I’m starving. Let’s go get some lunch.”

* * *

It’s mail time again, and there’s a very special package for Julia, delivered straight from Diamond City. 

“It’s from Piper,” Julia says, waving Shaun over. “Do you have a guess as to what this?” 

His eyes widen. “Is it the book?” Julia gives him the package to shake. He grins. “It’s the book!” 

There’s a small note tied to the package with string. Julia unfolds it. 

> _ It’s done! I’ve sent a copy to the Castle too, of course, but I thought you should have one too! More are on the way. Love you lots, say hi to Curie for me, Piper.  _

“Mom, you are  _ blushing…”  _ Shaun says, his fingers itching to open the package. 

“Yeah,” she says, untying the string and unwrapping the paper packaging. “Piper just wrote me a sweet note.” 

The paper falls away to reveal a medium-sized hardcover book bound in dark blue fabric with the lightning-bolt symbol of the Minutemen on the front in white, the same symbol on the spine. Julia opens it to the cover page.

 

_ The History of the Minutemen, 2180-2287 _

_ By Preston Garvey _

_ Published by Publick Occurrences and the Commonwealth Public Library, 2287 _

 

The other side has a hand-drawn map of the Commonwealth, then a table of contents. 

 

> _ Introduction by the current General……………………..……..1 _
> 
> _ Chapter One: The Original Minutemen…………………...…...3 _
> 
> _ Chapter Two: Founding……………………………………...….10 _
> 
> _ Chapter Three: Defense of Diamond City………………….….23 _
> 
> _ Chapter Four: Growth……………………………………....…...31 _
> 
> _ Chapter Five: Radio Freedom…………………………….…….42 _
> 
> _ Chapter Six: The Castle Falls…………………………….…….55 _
> 
> _ Chapter Seven: Slow Decline…………………………….…….64 _
> 
> _ Chapter Eight: The Quincy Massacre…………………....…...79 _
> 
> _ Chapter Nine: Downfall…………………………………...…...94 _
> 
> _ Chapter Ten: Sanctuary………………………………….…….111 _
> 
> _ Chapter Eleven: Resurgence…………………………….…..127 _
> 
> _ Chapter Twelve: The Institute……………………………......156 _
> 
> _ Conclusion: The Library and Hope for the Future………....178 _
> 
> _ Appendices:  _
> 
> _ Appendix I: Timeline…………………………….………..…..196 _
> 
> _ Appendix II: Notable Members………………………..…….198 _
> 
> _ Appendix III: Diagrams and Maps…………………...……..200 _

 

Julia wipes away tears gathering in the corners of her eyes as she flips through the book. It’s neat and clean, with hand-drawn sketches and diagrams interspersed between pages of text. 

“Wow!” Shaun says. “Preston wrote a book! He made a whole book!” 

“That he did.” Julia rubs the crisp spine, pride swelling in her heart. “That he did indeed.”

* * *

“When is Piper returning?” Curie asks, opening one eye and stretching her legs. It’s Saturday, which means a lazy morning. Meditation for her, laundry and mending for Julia. 

“At least a week,” Julia replies, wincing as she pokes her finger. “From what she said in her letter, Diamond City has been a mess ever since that nasty business with McDonough. They’re trying to figure out who’s going to take his place, and Piper said people are actually listening to her for once, now that they know she was actually right all along.” 

“Good. It is not as enjoyable without Piper here.” Curie puts her right leg sideways on the bench and stretches to touch her toes. “Though that does mean we have some time to ourselves, of course. Would you be opposed to having a private dinner tonight?” 

Julia grins and half-turns, looking up at Curie. “Of course, that would be wonderful. How are you doing? You’ve been talking with Danse a lot.” 

“I am doing well, thank you. I find myself drawn to helping others more than ever, and your friend Danse in particular seemed like he was in urgent need of guidance and friendship. If you must know, I have been thinking over an idea.” 

She is apparently still thinking it over, because she pauses and stretches again. Julia ties off a thread securing a new button to one of her favorite dresses. She patiently waits for Curie to continue, sinking her bare toes in the soft dirt and listening to the distant chatter of the awakening library. 

“Would we be able to open up a medical school?” Curie asks. “Not a large one, but enough to teach people the basics of medicine. We have plenty of reading material.” 

“A medical school?” Julia sits up and throws her sewing equipment back in its basket. “Curie, that’s a great idea!” She jumps up and picks Curie up, swinging her around in a semicircle. “Yes, yes!” 

Curie giggles, her face pressed into Julia’s neck and her dark hair tickling Julia’s skin. “Alright, dear Julia, I did not anticipate that you would be so enamored with the idea! Now please set me down before you overexert yourself!” 

Julia happily complies, but follows it up with a kiss. 

* * *

“Are you listening?” Shaun asks, looking over his shoulder. His feet are propped up with a small stool so they don’t dangle off the bench. 

“We’re listening,” Nick says, sprawled out in the chair behind the front desk. 

“Go ahead, Shaun,” Preston says, having stopped by on his way up to some of the northern settlements. He’d come to check on Julia, but had stayed for this impromptu concert. “We’re listening.” 

Shaun starts off with “Baa, Baa, Black Sheep”. Julia raises her eyebrows, secretly impressed with how fast he’s picking up the piano. He had organized the mini concert himself, making up his own programme and inviting everyone in the library. He follows up with “Frere Jacques” and a simplified version of Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata”. Then he finishes up with a simple version of “Maybe” by the Ink Spots, inviting everyone to sing along. 

When he’s done playing, everyone claps. Hancock, sitting cross-legged on the floor, whistles. 

“Encore!” Piper says. “Encore!” 

Shaun laughs. He stands and bows, blushing at all of the attention. He looks over at Julia. “Do you want to play too, Mom?” 

“Only if you want me to,” she says. “What do you want me to play? Do you want to play a duet with me?” 

His eyes light up. “The Bell Carol song?” 

“That’s it, the Carol of the Bells. Here, sit down.” It’s a song with an easy melody that Shaun taps out, with Julia providing rolling arpeggios for accompaniment. When the song is done, they both stand and bow, grinning from ear to ear. 

* * *

“Julia? Are you awake?” 

Julia raises her head and frowns. “I am now. What is it, Piper?” 

In the dark of their sectioned-off room in a corner of Julia’s office, Piper looks pale, her dark hair frizzing out around her face like a halo. “I don’t know. Sorry to wake you, I just wanted to talk, I guess. Can’t sleep.” 

Careful not to wake Curie who is sleeping curled-up on her other side, Julia scoots up so her pillow is more comfortably propping her head up. “Okay, let’s talk. What do you want to talk about?” 

“Anything. I just love talking to you.” Piper props her cheek on her hand, and they talk well into the night, discussing any and every topic they think of. They’re still talking when the sun peeks over the horizon, when they finally doze off. 

Curie wakes to see Julia fast asleep with her head turned towards Piper, who still has her head on her palm, but which is slipping dangerously. 

“Silly,” Curie whispers to herself. She pecks Julia on the cheek and carefully settles Piper’s head back down on the pillow. Then, conscious of the approaching fall chill, she throws an extra blanket over the two of them. “Sleep tight, you two.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Danse, despite being mentioned in nearly every chapter of this fic, was almost not even in it at all.   
> Curie making a small medical school was an idea that I had when I was first planning this fic that never quite made it in. I feel like it's a great idea for her, since she still has all of this knowledge in her brain, and she can still do research on the side. And somebody needs to start actually training doctors. 
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone who stuck around for the whole ride! This fic has gotten almost a thousand hits (as of writing this) and uhhh 69 kudos (nice!), with so many wonderful people commenting along the way and encouraging me! It's always sad to be finishing up a long fic like this, but that just means I now have more time to write more things!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Visiting Hours](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15324822) by [SmallRedRobin13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmallRedRobin13/pseuds/SmallRedRobin13)




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